DAMAGED SOULS
by Donna McIntosh
Summary: Skinner rushes down to Honduras to rescue Mulder only to find out that it isn't Mulder being held captive but Alex Krycek!


Title: DAMAGED SOULS

Author: Donna McIntosh

Fandom: X-Files

Pairing: Skinner/Krycek

Genre: Slash

Rating: NC-17 FRAO

Disclaimer: These characters belong to Chris Carter; not to me. I just let them have a little more fun than he did.

Summary: Skinner rushes to Central America to rescue Mulder and finds out it's not really Mulder being held, but an old enemy; Alex Krycek.

DAMAGED SOULS

"Sir? Special Delivery letter for you. It's from Honduras." Kim said as she dropped the letter on Skinner's desk.

"Honduras?" Skinner closed the file he'd been working on and picked up the letter. "Thanks" he added as she headed back to the outer office.

He studied the writing on the envelope while he mentally ran through all his agents current locations. None were in South or Central America. He tore off the end of the envelope, blew in it, then pulled out the single piece of paper and read.

"_Senor Mr. Walter Skinner Sir. I write this letter to you for Green-eyes. He say write you and you will come take him away from this place of hell. Please come help him. They keep him locked up in chains and do bad things to him. He cries and begs for death. If you no come for him I think death will. He say tell you name is Fox Mulder. Please senor, come help him. He is in Tela in small cantina Los Dos Amigos. He is in basement. These men are very bad men. Very mean. Por Dio, por forvor, venga!_

_Maria"_

"Shit! Mother fucking shit!" Skinner stood and paced the floor as he tried to remember when the last time he spoke with Mulder. It had been some time; at least a month or more. What the hell was he doing in Honduras?

He pulled out his cell phone and punched in Mulder's number. It went directly to voice mail. He tried Scully's number. She answered on the third ring.

"Scully?"

"Dana, it's Skinner. Is Mulder by any chance with you?"

"No he isn't. Did you try his number?"

"I did. It went right to voice mail. I really need to talk with him. Do you have any idea where I can reach him?"

"Not really. We had kind of a disagreement a couple weeks ago and I haven't talked with him since. Is anything wrong? Anything I can help with?"

"No, nothing. I just had something I needed his opinion on. Listen, I may be going out of town for a few days. If you hear from him or come up with any ideas where he might be, I'd appreciate it if you'd call me."

"OK, sure. But I have no idea when I'll hear from him."

"Thanks anyway. I guess I'll just keep trying his cell."

"Did you leave a message?"

"No; I didn't. I'll call back and do that. Thanks, Dana."

He called Mulder again and left a message to call him immediately. He paced the floor a little more then called his secretary in.

"Kim, make a reservation for me on the next flight to Honduras. Reschedule my meetings for the next few days."

Skinner drove home, hoping all the way that his cell would ring and Mulder would be on the other end. It didn't happen. He took a shower and packed a few things. Even as he drove to the airport he still hoped that Mulder might call. He didn't.

Skinner boarded the plane and as he sat and waited for take off he reread the letter again. What the hell could Mulder be doing in Honduras? Once they were in the air he decided to try and get what sleep he could. Tomorrow was going to be a long day and he needed to face it with at least some sleep.

The flight was smooth as far as Tegucigalpa and he did manage to get some sleep on the way. Once there he boarded a small plane for the three hour flight to Tela. The morning was bright and the sun hot as he made his way through the tiny airport. There was a rental car there for him; old, beat up, but it ran. He followed instructions into town and stopped at the recommended hotel. His room was small and furnished with a bed, a chest, a table and two chairs; all looked to be vintage 40s. The only bit of comfort was the ceiling fan that squeaked when he turned it on. He opened a window but that offered little relief to the stifling heat of the room. He wondered what the afternoon would be like if the morning was this hot.

He glanced up and down the street but couldn't spot the cantina Los Dos Amigos. He decided to take a walk and scope the place out. He made his way down the stairs and nodded to others as they passed by. Out on the sidewalk he felt a little better. Sitting for hours on end always keyed him up and that was that last thing he needed right now. He needed a clear head so he could think and plan.

There it was, Cantina Los Dos Amigos. Nothing much going on inside as he passed by. He walked to the end of the block and turned around and walked back. This time he decided to go in. Only a few other patrons in the dimly lit place; they looked him over as he walked in then turned back to their conversations. He took a seat at the bar and ordered a beer.

He sipped his drink and was about to ask the bar tender if he was one of the Dos Amigos the place was named for when someone from the back shouted, "Cerveza!" The way he jumped told Skinner immediately that this man was not an owner; he was far too frightened of whoever was yelling at him. The man grabbed a beer from the cooler and hurried into the back room with it. Once back, he busied himself wiping the bar.

"Do you speak English?" Skinner asked.

"Si, … er … Yes, I speak the English very good."

"So tell me, what does everyone do for a little entertainment around here?"

"You're doin it. We drink, we talk, we laugh, then we go home to the family."

"Ah, yes; the family. What if a man doesn't have any family? Would there be any … entertainment for a man like him?"

"Well that would depend, senor."

"On what?" Skinner pulled his wallet out and flashed a wad of money as he paid for his beer.

"On what kind of entertainment you like. There are some nice girls here in Tela. Very nice, very young. You like them young; si?"

"Not too young; thirties maybe and not of the female persuasion; possible?" Skinner eased a twenty out and slid it across the bar to him for the information.

"Senor, anything is possible; if you can afford it." The bar tender said with a smile as he pocketed the twenty.

"Well I'm just passing through on business. I just closed a big deal and I made my bosses a lot of money. They are footing the bills so if I add a little to the bill for entertainment purposes I'm sure they won't complain."

"It will cost more than a little, I think."

"My entertainment usually does. They haven't complained so far." Skinner grinned back at him.

"One moment, senor." The bar tender tossed the towel down and went into the back. He came back out as far as the door way and motioned Skinner to follow him. Skinner drained the last of his beer and went into the back room. They walked down a hallway and into a sitting room where two men sat playing cards and smoking cigars.

"Miguel…" one of the men said with a nod of his head and the bartender left the room. "So you are looking for a little entertainment?"

"I am; if it's to my liking. I'm kind of particular. If you have what I want I'll pay your price. If not; I walk and find it elsewhere."

"You haven't heard the price." The older of the two men said tossing down his cards.

"You haven't heard what I want." Skinner scanned the room briefly but maintained eye contact with whichever one was speaking.

"You want a man in his thirties. That is a rare and expensive thing to want. We have much younger available who are willing and eager to serve."

"Whether he is willing is not necessary or desired." Skinner tried to keep the hatred he already felt for these two from showing through.

"Ahhh I see. You are a man of specialized taste. May I ask, why you came here, to Tela?" The younger one asked.

"I was told of this place by a friend; a former patron who left here very satisfied. He was here not long ago. He told me of one called Green Eyes. He said to be sure and ask for him." Skinner held his breath. He still didn't have a plan; he was just making it up as he went along.

"This friend's name?" The older, meaner looking of the two, asked.

"I do not repeat my friend's names to anyone as I would hope they would not repeat mine."

"Very good!" The young one said then called out through the open doorway, "Maria!" 

The middle-aged women came into the room wiping her hands on her apron. "Si, senor?" She glanced up at Skinner and a flicker of something passed in her eyes.

"Check on Green Eyes. See if he is ready to receive a visitor."

"Si," she said, giving one more soulful look to Skinner before ambling out the door.

The older of the two got up from the table and poured himself a drink of whiskey. He kept a suspicious eye on Skinner but remained silent. The younger man stood and said to Skinner. "One hour, five hundred dollars. Pay now."

"Uh uh. Half now; if I'm satisfied you get the other half. If you trot out some dog, I'll be back for a refund."

"No, no, senor. No dogs. Not here at Dos Amigos. All good and clean. You see. You be happy."

Skinner pulled out his wallet and handed his two hundred and fifty then asked, "What about noise? Is the room sound proof? I wouldn't want any unexpected visitors like the local authorities."

"No problem, no problem. Is nice and quiet. A shower to clean up afterwards. We treat our customers right here. You see; you see."

A few minutes later Maria came back into the room and nodded. She kept her eyes down cast and didn't look at Skinner.

The older man finished his drink and walked over to the doorway and nodded for Skinner to follow. They walked down the hall, turned the corner, through a locked door and down some old wooden steps that creaked beneath their weight. The cellar was dank and musty; and smelled of age. They stopped at the last door. The metal key clanked in the lock and the door was opened.

The room was lit with a single low-wattage bulb hanging from the ceiling. After a moment his eyes adjusted to the dim light of the windowless room and he could see an old iron bed with a naked man chained face down on it. Arms spread out and chained to the headboard and ankles chained to the footboard. The dark head was turned facing the back wall.

Skinner swallowed hard and walked over to the bed. He grabbed a handful of hair and pulled the head around where he could see the face. He was glad his back was to the man standing there watching when he saw the face.

"No dog, senor. Is good?"

"Yes. I accept."

The owner backed out of the room and locked the door behind him.

The green eyes opened then and saw Skinner for the first time and came alert with a jerk. "Skinner!"

"Krycek! What the hell! Why did you tell Maria your name was Mulder?" "Would you have come down here if I'd given her my real name?" 

"Shit!" Skinner paced the floor finally sitting down at the small table. "I came all this way for **you**?" He was disgusted with himself for not trying harder to find Mulder before going off on this wild goose chase. Instead of finding his former agent, he found an enemy!

"Skinner, I'll do anything; pay anything if you'll just get me out of here. I'll make it worth your while; I promise you." Krycek begged.

Something about the tone of his voice brought Skinner back to reality and his anger subsided somewhat as he took the scene in again. A good look at Krycek showed that he had lost a lot of weight, his back and legs were covered with bruises of varying colors from dark purplish blue the fading yellow. His wrist and ankles were scabbed and bloody. He'd already been worked over at least once today. Some of that bruising and the blood was fresh.

A sickening feeling passed over him as he stared down at Krycek. He hated this man; hated him with a passion. The sight of him this way should bring some gratification but it didn't. "Just how the hell am I supposed to get you out of here?" Skinner growled at him.

"I don't know; how were you planning on getting Mulder out?" Krycek's voice cracked with emotion.

Skinner stood up and started pacing. "I didn't have any real plan. I just figured it would come to me once I got here." He took a closer look at Krycek's tear stained face and something inside of him melted. "How long you been here?" he asked.

"Sixty seven days. Please, Skinner, I'll do anything you ask. I'll turn state's evidence. I'll testify against the old man; what ever you want. I just … I don't want to die like this. Not like this."

Skinner had to turn away; he couldn't look at him any longer. Sympathy and pity were boiling up inside him and warring with his years of hatred for this man. He could just leave; just walk away. It was none of his business. If this was going to be the end of Alex Krycek, then so be it. It wasn't up to him.

He hated this place! He hated this town and wished he'd never come here. Krycek lay there on the bed a broken man; beaten and bloody. He'd gotten what he deserved. Didn't he? He turned back to look as Krycek started coughing a deep rasping cough.

Did anyone really deserve this? He looked around the small room at the adobe walls; the smell in this room alone was enough to do someone in.

"I don't know what more I can offer you Skinner. You name it and I'll agree to it." Krycek pleaded.

"Just shut up, Krycek, let me think."

Krycek turned his head away and stifled another cough. Skinner thought as he paced. Could he leave Krycek here? Just walk away? From the sound of that cough he probably wouldn't last much longer.

"Have you got any bright ideas, Krycek? What did you promise Maria to get her to write me that letter?"

"Nothing; she offered to write it."

"Why did you have her write to me? Why not Spender?"

"Spender's the one who put me here."

"Shit, Krycek, not even slime like Spender can stand you!"

Krycek was silent.

Skinner paced the floor and waited; hoping some sort of plan would form in is mind. It didn't and when he heard the key turning in the lock and saw the desperate look on Krycek's face as he mouthed the one word, "Please!" Skinner knew what he was going to do.

The door swung open and the elder Amigo entered the room. Krycek turned his head the other way and held his breath.

"Aaahh senor, you want more time, maybe? Two hundred extra. I have it now please."

"Yes," Skinner stalled and reached into his jacket pocket, "Of course." In one swift movement he had his gun out and the barrel pressed against the man's forehead as he backed him up against the wall. "Call your amigo down here; NOW! Call him in English." He ordered.

The man gave him a hate-filled stare and slowly raised his hands. "No problems. We want no problems in here. You can have more time for free. Thirty minutes for free; OK?"

"Hands on your head," Skinner ordered as he patted him down. He pulled a gun from the man's waist band and a knife from his boot and tossed them over by the bed. Krycek was watching now, straining to see where they went.

"Call your friend or I'll bring him down here with a gun shot."

The sweating man smiled a hateful smile and said, "No need for any shots, my friend." Then he called out "Pedro! Come here, Pedro!"

Skinner walked him over to the table and sat him down. He stood behind the man with the gun pressing against the back of his head. "Hands flat on the table and don't move."

Pedro came into the room a few minutes later and froze in the doorway.

"Come in, Pedro." Skinner motioned with his gun. "Close the door behind you."

Pedro did as he was told; staring constantly to his older friend for some sign of what he should do.

"Right hand on your head, Pedro. With your left hand, I want you to very slowly remove your gun and knife and toss it over there by the bed."

Pedro hesitated only a moment before he did as he was told.

"We want no trouble, senor. This one did not please you? We have others that may be more to your liking; si?" Pedro said.

"Now very slowly I want you to walk over here and stand next to your amigo here." Skinner stepped back and waited until both men were within eyesight then patted him down; no other weapons were found. He reached into his jacket and pulled out his ID and tossed it opened on the table in front of them.

"You can read, can't you?" He gestured to the badge which had the letters F.B.I. clearly on it.

"You have no jurisdiction here." The elder amigo sneered.

"That's right, I don't. I am simply here on a fact finding mission for the Director and I have to tell you I don't like the facts I'm finding."

"You can't arrest us!" Pedro said trying to emulate his friend's bravado but the sweat was standing out on his forehead.

"I'm not here to arrest you. I am here to take him back with me." He nodded towards Krycek who was watching intently.

"You cannot have him! He is ours!" The sitting man snarled.

"He works for me; he leaves with me." Skinner pointed the gun directly towards the face of the sitting man.

"Look," Skinner added, "I'd rather not start a big action here. You're both business men and so am I. Why don't we talk a deal here?"

"We don't make deals with gringos!" Pedro said.

"You dealt with the gringo who brought him here. How much did he pay you? I'm in a position to offer more. Name your price."

"What is it you want?" The sitting man asked.

"Just for the two of us to walk out of here without any problems and without anyone getting shot."

"One hundred thousand, US." The sitting man said.

"You're out of your fucking mind! I wouldn't pay that much for my grandmother! I'll give you ten."

"You waste our time, amigo." The sitting man grinned his evil grin then added "Seventy five."

"Twenty or the bullets start flying around in here and I'm the only one with a gun." Skinner sneered back.

"I can go as low as fifty but I will be losing money in the deal. He is very popular with the locals."

Skinner sidled over to where the weapons were on the floor and picked them up; keeping a close eye on the men as he did so. He slipped the guns into his waist band and the knives into his pocket.

"Twenty five and he and I walk out of here. Otherwise the two of you will be carried out of here and delivered to your weeping widows. That is my final offer and I want him unchained NOW!"

"How do we know you will pay such an amount? You carry that much cash on you?" The sitting man asked.

"We don't take no credit cards!" Pedro added.

"I have it in my hotel room." Skinner answered.

"Go get it then we talk business; until we see the cash; he stays where he is."

"NO!" Krycek spoke for the first time since the men entered the room. "Don't leave me, Skinner." He looked terrified and kept a suspicious eye on the two amigos.

Skinner looked over at him with a raised eyebrow.

"I'll be dead before you leave the building."

"OK. How about this? We all go together. It's just a few blocks from here, next street over. We take a little walk to the hotel, I give you your money and we leave on the next plane out of here."

The two amigos stared at each other a minute and Skinner added. "Just a little walk and you return with twenty five thousand US in your pockets."

The seated man stood up and said, "OK. We walk. The three of us. He stays here."

"No! We all go or the deal is off. He leaves here with me; one way or the other."

The older amigo nodded to Pedro and Pedro went over to the bed and began working the key into the locks that were holding the chains in place. Krycek sat up with a groan. He sat for a moment on the side of the bed, his head down against the wave of dizziness.

"Can you walk?" Skinner asked.

"I'll walk or I'll crawl if I have to."

"Get him some clothes." Skinner ordered and waved the gun at Pedro. Pedro and the other amigo exchanged glances and Pedro headed for the door. Skinner stepped in front of him aiming the gun in his face. "Anything funny and your friend here will have his brains all over the floor; then I'll come for you; comprende?"

"Si, senor. Clothes; nothing funny, Si." He put his head down and made his way out of the room. Skinner closed the door behind him and waited; eyes going back and forth between Krycek and the other man.

"Sit back down; hands flat on the table until he gets back."

He did as he was told and sat back down. Krycek made an effort to stand and went to his knees. Skinner kept the gun and his eyes on the man at the table. Krycek fumbled a minute but made it back up to his feet. He sat on the edge of the bed again and began rubbing his legs furiously trying to get the muscles working again. He stretched his legs and flexed his muscles and tried again. This time he stood; wobbly but he was standing.

"See if you can walk." Skinner told him.

"I need one of those guns, Skinner."

"OK. Let's see if you can walk over here and get one."

Krycek walked carefully, one slow step at a time but he made it over to Skinner's side, careful not to get in between Skinner and the sitting man who was watching them both with seething eyes.

"Here," Skinner handed him one of the guns from his waist band. "Walk around a little. See if you can get your circulation going. We've got about a three block walk."

Krycek held the gun at his side and walked slowly around the small room staying out of the line of fire should the seated man try anything.

It took another five minutes and Pedro was back with a pair of pants and a shirt. Skinner patted him down again and checked out the hall behind him. It was empty. Pedro tossed the clothes on the bed and Skinner told him to stand over by his friend; he obeyed.

"Nothing funny, senor; nothing funny," he said and laced his fingers together over his head.

Skinner watched them closely as Krycek struggled into the clothes that obviously weren't his. The pants were way too big and falling off of him. "He needs a belt." Skinner said.

"He didn't come in here with no belt, senor." Pedro said.

"Then give him yours." Skinner waved the gun in his direction.

"Mine?! This is imported Italian leather!" Pedro was outraged.

"You can have it back when we get to the hotel." Skinner said.

The sitting man stood and nodded to Pedro. Pedro reluctantly undid his belt and handed it to Krycek. He looped it through a few of the loops and buckled it.

"OK. We're going to walk out of here now like we're old friends. Krycek you walk in front with Pedro. Pedro, if he should stumble, I expect you to give him a hand. I'll be right behind you with your partner here by my side and my gun in his ribs. He'll take the first shot if we even see a hint of trouble. Is everyone clear?" Three heads nodded consent.

Krycek headed for the door with Pedro at his side. He looked both ways before stepping out into the hall. He did all right until they got to the stairs then Pedro had to give him a hand. The slow pace gave Skinner plenty of time to keep an eye out and listen for anything unusual.

The lunch crowd was in full force now and the cantina was bustling with hungry and thirsty patrons. No one paid them much notice as Lupita was now tending bar with her long dark hair cascading down over her bare shoulders and most of her ample bosom on display.

Out the door they went and no one even turned to look at them. The mariachis had started playing and some of the customers were singing along.

Krycek looked carefully up and down the street as did Skinner. There was no sign of trouble.

"No trouble, senors, no trouble." Pedro promised as they stepped out onto the sidewalk and began walking.

Krycek was barefoot and disheveled looking but no one noticed. Tela was a little costal town and dress was casual and minimal. At the end of the first block Krycek had to stop. He sat on a rock fence that bordered a small yard in front of a little shop.

"I just need a minute." He said to Skinner.

"OK. We can take a minute. Relax." Skinner plastered a smile across his face and looked around as though he was a sight-seer viewing the quaint little town.

Krycek stood up again and they walked on turning at the next corner. "How much further?" he asked, obviously in pain.

"Half a block. Third building on the left." Skinner answered as they walked along. Skinner swiveled his head back and forth making sure no one was following them.

"There will be no trouble, senor, as long as you hold up your end of the deal. You have this money in your room; no?" The man walking beside Skinner asked.

"It's there all right." Skinner answered as they crossed the street between slowly moving vehicles and made their way into the hotel. "Second floor," Skinner said and motioned to the stairs. "You all right, Krycek?"

"Yeah," Krycek answered through gritted teeth. "I can make it." He grabbed hold of the railing; Pedro took hold of his plastic arm and helped him. Skinner and the other Amigo trailed along behind with not so much as a backward glance from others coming down the stairs or lingering in the lobby.

They stopped outside door number 8 and Skinner pulled out his key. Krycek was leaning against the wall sweating profusely and gasping for breath. The four of them went inside and Pedro helped Krycek over to the bed where he reached down and pulled his belt from around Krycek's waist. Skinner picked up his bag and went into the bathroom next door. In less than five minutes he was back and handed the elder man an envelope with the cash. He flipped through it counting the bills.

"It's all there," Skinner assured him then held up another five thousand dollars for them to see. "I have another deal for you if you're interested."

"And what would that be?" Pedro asked as he eyed the money greedily.

"We will be leaving here on the next plane out. I want your word that we won't be bothered and in exchange I will not report what I've found here to the Honduran authorities. Deal?"

"Of course, you have our word." Pedro said and reached for the money.

"This is not part of that deal, Skinner snatched the money back. This is for something else."

"And what would that be, senor?" The elder amigo asked.

"The man who brought him here," he nodded to Krycek, "If he comes looking for him; you're to tell him that he died. Tell him anything you like but make sure he believes that this man is dead; I'm sure you can come up with a believable story."

"He may not even contact us." Pedro said simply.

"Then you've earned another five thousand for nothing." Skinner said.

"We could just take the money and call the man immediately afterwards," the elder amigo said.

"You could; just as I could then make my report in full to the Honduran authorities about what I've seen here." Skinner warned.

"Aaahh I see. We are in agreement then. The elder amigo reached for the money.

Skinner handed him the money and opened the door for them to leave. Once they were gone, he closed the door and locked it. Krycek, on the bed, took two or three deep breaths and passed out.

Skinner took the phone from the bed side table over to the chair and sat down. He dialed the number for the airport and was dismayed to find there wasn't another flight out of Tela until the next morning.

He stood staring out the window into the street below wondering just how much danger they were in sitting there waiting. They could drive to Tegucigalpa, it was only about three hundred miles but he doubted if his rental car could make it that far. He also worried if they might be stopped along the way. He was startled out of his thoughts by Krycek's low voice.

"I'll pay you back, Skinner, every penny. I've got it. I just need to get to it."

"I'm not worried about the money, Krycek. The next plane isn't until tomorrow. We've got to spend the night here."

"And they know where we're staying." Krycek added; reading Skinner's thoughts.

"Exactly. I'd never have brought them here if I'd known we'd have to stay over."

"It wouldn't have mattered. This is a small town. A new gringo around would be easy to find." Krycek said as he slung his feet over the side of the bed and sat up, coughing as he did so.

"You're probably right about that. We need to find someplace else to spend the night. Some place safe." Skinner said staring back out the window.

"Skinner? Do you have anything to eat? I'm starving." Krycek asked.

"No, I don't … wait; I have some protein bars in my bag. That'll have to do until I can get some food in here." He tossed two bars to Krycek.

"That'll be fine; anything." Krycek grabbed the bars eagerly and ripped them open with his teeth and gobbled them down.

Skinner called the front desk and they insisted there was no room service and that they would have to come down to the dining room if they wanted to eat. Even the offer of a bribe didn't help. "We're going to have to go down stairs to eat. They won't deliver."

"I don't know if I can make those stairs again." Krycek said as he lay back down.

"You'll make them if you want to get out of here, Krycek. You're so weak now it's a wonder you made it this far. If you don't get some food into you, you may as well just plan on retiring here."

Skinner walked next door to the bathroom and came back with a wet washcloth and handed it to Krycek. "See if that helps."

Krycek took the cloth and rubbed it over his face. "I'll make it. Once I get some food in me, I'll pick up."

"You'd better. I bought your ticket out of here but I'll be damned if I'm going to carry you."

"Let's go." Krycek struggled to his feet and made a grab for his pants as they slid down over his hips.

"Just a minute." Skinner sighed and reached into his bag and pulled out the extra pair of jeans he brought along with him. "Here." He tossed them to Krycek. "They're probably still too big but they should be easier to keep up.

Krycek slid out of the other pants and into Skinner's jeans. They were loose on him but at least they stayed up.

They made their way down the stairs and into the dining room and took the first table they came to. The room was nearly empty as lunch was about over. They ordered and were served promptly. Krycek just nibbling at his food as the two protein bars he had eaten had filled his shrunken stomach.

They talked very little but within a short time, Krycek did indeed seem to pick up. He drank the tea with relish and worked on his vegetables and rice.

"What size are you?" Skinner asked as he took a pen out of his pocket and started making a list on a paper napkin.

"Huh?" Krycek replied surprised by the question 

"There's a shop just down the street there, see it?" Skinner pointed out the window. "I'll go over and see if I can get you some decent clothes. You need some shoes too. What size?"

"I'll go with you." Krycek wiped his mouth with his napkin.

"No. You're too weak. There's plenty of people around here. I don't think anything is going to happen just yet. Let's order desert. You can sit here and work at it while I run over and see what I can find. Save your strength for tonight in case we need it."

"Eleven medium." Krycek said as he nibbled on a tortilla.

"Jeans, shirt, underwear?" Skinner asked and wrote down all the answers Krycek gave. In another few minutes their waiter checked back on them and Skinner ordered desert then took off across the street.

Krycek was just finishing his sherbet when Skinner returned with two shopping bags full.

He sat a minute and wolfed down his half-melted desert then they made their way slowly back up the stairs. Krycek did better than the first time but he was still very week. Skinner had to step in back of him once to keep him from falling but they made it back to their room without arousing any attention.

"I got some stuff for you that you should probably use. There was a drug store right next door to the shop so I got these." He tossed two enemas on the bed.

"Thanks." Krycek said as he reached for them.

"The bathroom is right next door. I'll go start a tub for you. You can use those and take a good soak; it should help. I also got some Tylenol, cough syrup, some bottled water and some snacks for later." He went next door and turned the water on in the tub then came back and helped Krycek open the Tylenol and a bottle of water.

He pulled the new clothes out of the bags and clipped the tags off and handed them to Krycek; underwear, T-shirt and jeans. "If you need any help, just knock on the wall or call out; I'll hear you." Skinner said as Krycek walked slowly out the door.

Skinner waited forty-five minutes before knocking on the bathroom door. "Krycek, you all right?"

"Yeah."

"You need to come out now. There are others needing to use the rest room." Skinner said as he turned to smile apologetically to two others standing in the hall waiting. To them he said, "Sorry; my friend's been sick. I told him a good soak in the tub will make him feel better. He'll be out in a minute."

They smiled politely and nodded their heads. A few moments later the door opened and Krycek came out. "Sorry," he said to those waiting and they nodded and smiled.

Back in their room Skinner handed Krycek the socks and sneakers he had bought. Krycek put them on with some effort then lay back down. Skinner sat at the small table and thought about what the evening might bring.

"How much do you trust this Maria?" Skinner asked.

"She snuck me in some extra food in her apron pocket when she could. She washed me in between 'visitors'" he said the last with scorn. "She offered to write that letter, she's a widow, no children and her husband used to work for Dos Amigos. He was a bar tender there and got killed in a fight last year. That's about it. Oh, and she has a sister that lives in Tegucigalpa. She wants to move there but has no money for the fare. Do you think we could spring for her fare? You can just add it to what I already owe you. I'm good for it."

"Is she a church going woman?" Skinner asked.

That question brought Krycek's head around to look at Skinner. "Yeah, every Sunday morning. Why?"

"She ever talk about the priest there? Is he a good man?"

"Yeah. The man of God she calls him."

"She trusts him then?"

"Yeah, I guess so. What are you thinking?"

"I've been looking around and this is the only hotel around that isn't a hole in the wall. I'm thinking we'll have dinner here then after dark we slip out of here and head for the church. I figured I'd show my ID, explain briefly that we are concerned for our safety and that we need to stay the night there. In the morning we head for the airport and we're out of here."

"You really think they'll try something?" Krycek asked knowing the answer as well as Skinner did.

"I think you can pretty much count on it. They know I've got money on me and they're not all that eager to let you go."

"You're probably right." Krycek said as he sat up and rubbed the back of his neck. "You think the priest will let us stay there?"

"I doubt he has any guest facilities but we can sleep on the pews. I'll offer him a nice donation to his church. I can't see them breaking into the church and dragging us out."

"It'd be safer than staying here." Krycek agreed then asked, "You want this bed for a while? I can rest just as well in a chair."

"No; you need it. Try and get some sleep. We'll have to walk to the church. It looks to be five or six blocks down the street. If we take the rental car, everyone will know it."

"OK. Wake me if you need me."

"Will do," Skinner answered. He continued thinking about his plan and decided it was the best they could come up with under the circumstances. He didn't trust these Dos Amigos for one minute with their slimy grins and their slimy establishment. He had made a big deal of taking his bag and going into the restroom to get the money out but he didn't figure they bought it. They most likely figured he had the money on him and if he had come down there with thirty thousands dollars cash to spend so freely, there was a good chance there would be a lot more where that had come from.

He'd have to be very careful to get them both out of this mess alive. He could kick Krycek's ass for getting him into this. And he had to admit, Krycek was right. He wouldn't have come if he had known it was Krycek being held and not Mulder. He thought about that for a while and shuddered at what it must have been like; chained to that bed and being used by whatever wacko had the money to pay for an hour's time with him.

He decided to try and nap a little himself. He folded his arms on the table and rested his head. He was tired. It had been a long time since he had been this tired. He dozed off.

They were both startled awake by a commotion out in the hall. Skinner jumped from his seat at the table, grabbed his gun and headed for the door. Krycek came off the bed, rolled down beside it and fumbled for his gun on the nightstand. It took only a moment or two to realize that someone was drunk and a couple of others were trying to get the belligerent man into his room across the hall. They finally managed their chore after wrestling with him a bit and him slamming up against the wall and their door. The noise quieted down after a while and Skinner and Krycek were both able to catch their breath.

"You OK?" Skinner asked as Krycek made it to his feet.

"Yeah. That just took about ten years off of my life but I'm OK."

They each returned their guns to their original positions and walked around a bit to wake up. Skinner began gathering a few things out of his bag and headed for the door. "I'm going to take a quick shower. You need to use the facility first?"

"No, go ahead. I'll just sit here and see if I can get my heart to start beating again."

They had an early dinner in the dining room and Skinner was pleased to see that Krycek's strength was picking up somewhat. After dinner and back in their room they anxiously awaited darkness. Skinner called the airport and confirmed their reservations for the next morning and packed his few supplies in his bag. Krycek paced the floor and fiddled with his gun.

The lights in the shops in the street below came on one by one as darkness fell. They decided to wait until nine o'clock. It would be good and dark by then and most people would be settled in their homes. The hours crawled by and when the time arrived they left their room, leaving the lights on. They took the back stairs down and slipped out into the alley. They stood a few minutes till their eyes became adjusted to the dim light and started off down the alley.

They kept to the connected alleyways and made the first three blocks without incident. Half way down the fourth block, Krycek fell to his knees. Skinner stopped and came back to him. "You OK?" He pulled him up to his feet.

"Yeah, leg muscles are cramping and hurt like hell." He tried rubbing at them a minute. Skinner knelt in front of him and gave each leg a quick, vigorous massage.

"It's not that much further; only a couple of blocks."

"I can make it." Krycek said and tried a few steps.

Just then they heard voices behind the next building down. They stepped back into the darkness against the building. A man and a woman were standing there whispering and giggling; kissing and rubbing all over each other. After several long kisses they parted; the man went on his way and the woman went back inside. They were alone in the alley once again. They listened for a few minutes to make sure and started off; Skinner with his left arm around Krycek's waist helping him along and keeping his right hand free to reach for his gun if necessary.

They were within eyesight of the church when they first heard the growling. They stopped and looked around. Between them and the church two big dogs stared with yellow eyes at them and snarled their warning. There was no turning back now. They were within fifty yards of the church's back door.

"What are we going to do?" Krycek asked as Skinner held him steady.

"We've got no choice. I'm guessing they're familiar with knives." Skinner pulled out the knives he had taken from the Dos Amigos; he flicked one open and handed it to Krycek; then flicked the second one open. "Maybe they'll back off when they see these." Skinner hoped out loud.

"Why don't you go on ahead, maybe the priest can call them off?" Krycek said.

"No. I'm not leaving you out here alone. We go together. Ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be, I guess." Krycek gulped.

Skinner got a grip on Krycek and they started off, right down the middle of the alley. The dogs took a step or two closer as they neared them. Skinner held out his knife towards them; Krycek did the same. The blades flashed in the moon light. The dogs saw them and stepped back a bit; still growling but giving a little ground.

They eased on past them as the dogs separated, one to either side of the alley. Skinner practically dragged Krycek the rest of the way and then they were there at the back door and Skinner was pounding on it with his fist. The dogs had followed and were within a few feet and still snarling when the door was suddenly pulled open. Skinner pushed inside, hauling Krycek with him and closed the door behind them; leaning on it with relief.

"Gentlemen?" The priest said.

"Sorry about that; but there were two dogs out there ready to have us as a bedtime snack," Skinner apologized.

"Aaah yes. I know them well. Vicious beasts; like their owners, unfortunately." The priest answered shaking his head sadly. "What can I do for you?" He asked eyeing the two of them.

Skinner dug in his pocket and pulled out his badge and ID and handed it to the priest.

"Federal Bureau of Investigation" he read aloud, "You are from the F.B.I. in the US? What do you want here in Tela?"

About then, Krycek's legs gave out again and he sagged. Skinner caught him before he fell and the priest said, "This man is in need of medical attention. I will bring the doctor."

"No," they both called out and the priest stopped. "Please; we just need a place to rest for a few hours; some place safe." Skinner said.

"A .. a …well of course! Please come into my office. There is a couch there."

They followed him down the hall and through a door into a small office. Skinner helped Krycek to lie down. The priest covered him with a serape that had been draped on the back of the couch.

"Are you sure he doesn't need a doctor?" The priest asked.

"No. We just need to rest. We have a plane to catch tomorrow morning. We were afraid the hotel would not be safe." Skinner said.

The priest looked from Skinner to Krycek and for the first time saw the red, raw marks on Krycek's wrist. He stood rigid with anger.

"I will not help you kidnap this man!" 

"No, Father. He is not kidnapping me," Krycek struggled to speak. "He rescued me."

"I came from DC to bring him back. After a little … persuasion they agreed to let me take him. We are just concerned that they might … change their mind and want him back." Skinner explained.

"It is good you have come then. I am Father Albert. You are speaking of those two who call themselves Dos Amigos?"

"Yes, do you know them?" Skinner asked.

"They are Godless men; a blight on this community. You say they just let him go?" 

"Not exactly," Skinner answered, "I had to pay for his release. A lot of money. We are afraid they might think to come back for more money or to take him back."

"You are right to be afraid of them. These men are evil. You will be safe here. They would never trespass on holy ground."

"We will leave first thing in the morning, Father. I am prepared to make a generous donation to your church." Skinner reached into his pocket.

"You do not need to pay for the protection of the church; you are welcome here. However we do have a building fund for our elementary school. If you should care to make a small donation the people of our little town will be most grateful."

Skinner pulled out a handful of bills and placed it on the desk. Father Albert scooped it up and placed it in a locked box in his desk drawer.

"Please sit down, Mister Skinner. Is there anything I can get you? Have you had dinner?"

"We're fine thanks. We just need a place to rest up until morning then we'll be out of your hair." Skinner answered and took a seat in a nearby chair.

"I'm sorry I don't have better accommodations to offer you but you will be safe here."

"Thank you Father." Skinner sank back into the chair and watched Krycek who seemed to have fallen asleep already. Then he added, "Father, do you know Maria, I'm afraid I don't know her last name. She's a widow and works for Dos Amigos?"

"I do indeed. She's a good woman; attends mass every Sunday without fail. I buried her sorry excuse for a husband last year."

"She helped me find my friend here. He says she has a sister in Tegucigalpa and she wants to go there but she has no money for a ticket. Do you know if this is true?"

"It is true that she has a sister in Tegucigalpa; this I know. I did not know she wanted to move there."

"She told him that Dos Amigos won't let her leave. She works for them but they pay her no money."

"That is certainly possible. It has been known to happen before with these two."

"If I left you some money for her air fare; could you get it to her?" 

"Certainly; I can see that she gets it and I can also see to it that she gets to the airport safely."

"Thank you, Father." Skinner dug in his jacket pocket and came out with a thousand dollars and handed it to him.

"This is five times what the passage would cost." Father Albert said.

"I want her to have it. She's earned it." Skinner insisted.

"God bless you. This will give her a chance at a new life away from these bullies."

"Then it's money well spent." Skinner said.

Father nodded in agreement then wished them a good night and left for his quarters.

Just before dawn Skinner awoke with a start and looked at his watch. Krycek sensing Skinner's movements awoke as well and sat up. "Everything all right?"

"Yeah. We should probably get moving. It's nearly five; plane leaves at six. I was thinking I'd walk back to the hotel and pick up the car then come by here and pick you up."

"No, I'm going with you. I feel a lot stronger; I can make it."

Father Albert came into the room then carrying a tray with a pot of coffee and three cups.

"You have time for a cup of coffee, don't you?" He asked as he sat the tray down on his desk.

"That smells good, Father. Thank you." They sipped their coffee and afterwards used the restroom and continued their discussion.

"You'll be safe here while I go for the car." Skinner insisted.

"Yes, but you might not be. They could be watching and just waiting for us to come out. They know we'll be heading for the airport and need the car." Krycek reasoned.

"May I make a suggestion, gentlemen?" Farther Albert interrupted.

"Certainly, Father," Skinner answered.

"Why don't I go for the car?"

Krycek and Skinner eyed him carefully then exchanged glances.

"If they have tampered with your car, surely they won't let me get in it and drive it. They wouldn't dare touch a man of God. I can easily walk to the hotel and bring it back here. In fact; I think I should see the two of you to the airport. It's the least I could do after your generous gift to the people of this town." He smiled at them.

"Are you sure you want to get involved in something like this, Father?" Skinner asked.

"Absolutely. It's part of my job; to see that things run smoothly. If my accompanying the two of you to the airport will prevent … shall we say a public disturbance; then it's what I'm here for." He laced his hands together across his considerable abdomen and considered the discussion closed.

"Father, these men are deadly," Krycek warned.

"I am well aware of that fact, my son. I have consoled many widows in this small town. They have never stepped foot in this church and they would never dare lay a hand on me. They would be run out of town for sure."

"If you think it's safe …" Skinner trailed off.

"It's not safe, Skinner. Father, I wish you wouldn't do this." Krycek protested.

"Nonsense! It's my job and I do it willingly. So much more exciting than choir practice!" He winked at them and reached his hand out for the keys.

Skinner dropped them into his hand, described the car to him and watched as he disappeared out the front door of the church; walking down the middle of the street towards the hotel.

They paced nervously behind the front door of the church and peered out into the darkness. Before long they saw lights approaching and heard the rental car pull up. Father Albert waved to them from the driver's seat and they slipped out the door and headed for the car.

"I can take it from here, Father," Skinner said but Father Albert would not give up his seat behind the wheel.

"It's not nice to argue with a priest, son. Didn't your mother ever teach you that?" He smiled and waved Skinner to the passenger door. Skinner hopped in up front and Krycek got in the back and they were off.

About a mile out of town, Krycek nudged Skinner and pointed out the back window. Two cars were following them. Skinner pulled out his gun and rested it in his lap.

"Now, there will be no need for any of that, Mr. Skinner. Perhaps they are just other passengers heading for their flight. Either way, I intend to see the two of you safely aboard the plane without any need for fireworks."

Skinner kept the gun where it was and noticed Krycek had his out as well. They watched the cars behind them but they made no move to pass or over take them. Soon enough the turn off to the airport came up and all three vehicles took it. They slowed as they approached and each took a parking spot outside the small terminal.

They sat in the car for a time and watched and waited. Still thirty minutes before take off time. A young couple with a baby got out of one of the other cars while the third car sat silently with no activity. The young couple went into the terminal and took seats to wait for boarding time.

Skinner kept an eye on his watch. Ten minutes before boarding time and two men got out of the other car. One walked around back of the terminal while the other slouched against the front door and lit a cigarette. Another car pulled up and parked nearby; no one got out.

"Skinner," Krycek said.

"I see." Skinner answered. "Father, you've done more than enough for us and we appreciate it. I'm asking you now to leave. We'll go on inside and whatever happens; happens."

"NO! I won't! You are my guests. You came to me and I intend to see this through. If you go in there alone there will be gun play. What about that young couple? That baby? The other innocents inside that building? You are boarding that plane and I am walking with you until you are safely on board; that's final!" He opened the door and got out.

Skinner and Krycek each got out; looking carefully around. Two men got out of the other car and approached them from behind as they started their walk into the building. The man leaning against the door tossed his cigarette and said to them; "Excuse me, Father. But we're going to have to have a little talk with your two friends here." And to Skinner and Krycek he nodded for them to go around the side of the building.

"I think not, gentlemen. My friends have a plane to catch and as you can see it's ready to board; perhaps another time." Father Albert stepped past him and motioned for Skinner and Krycek to accompany him. They shouldered past the men and went inside. Skinner approached the desk and paid for their tickets. Just then the side door opened and the pilot announced, "Time to board!"

Two other passengers went first, followed by the young couple then Krycek, Father Albert, and Skinner. Just outside one of the men stepped up and touched Skinner on the arm. "One moment, senor?"

"Sorry," Father Albert turned around. "We've got no time for chit-chat now. Come along Mr. Skinner. Don't keep me waiting. I have many things to do today."

Skinner shrugged off the hand on his arm and followed as Krycek climbed into the small plane. At the door way, just as he was stepping through, the elder Dos Amigos stepped up. "This is not finished, Senor Skinner. There will be another time; another place." He warned.

Skinner got into the plane and the pilot stuck his head out; "Are you coming, Father?" 

"No, Henry, not this time. You have a safe trip and I'll see you at mass Sunday morning."

"That you will, Father," the pilot answered and closed the door and went up front to the cockpit where the engines were already warming up. He waited until he could see that the people below were clear and taxied off onto the dirt strip.

The men below assembled for a talk while Father Albert walked through the middle of them and out to the car. Then the plane turned, got up speed and took off.

The three hour flight was smooth and silent except for the occasional cooing of the baby and the whispering of soft words from the parents.

The airport at Tegucigalpa was a relief but they stayed alert as they waited in line. They were asked to step aside and speak to officials when they realized Krycek had no papers.

Skinner showed his badge and ID and explained that he had come to Honduras to obtain the freedom of someone who worked for him. A quick look at Krycek's wrist confirmed the story and after a short conversation with his superior, Skinner and Krycek were granted papers and tickets for the next flight out to the US; which would be the next afternoon.

Skinner dreaded the thought of spending another night on Honduran soil but he had no choice. They took adjoining rooms at a nearby hotel and settled in.

"Well, tomorrow we'll be home." Skinner said to him as they opened their doors and checked out the rooms.

"You will; I don't have a home to go to." Krycek answered as he peered out the window into the street down below.

"This is the path you chose, Krycek." Skinner said as he flung his bag on the foot of his bed.

"Yeah, I know. And I've been paying for it for the last eight years."

"There's always a price to pay." Skinner said sagely.

"You're not telling me anything I don't already know Skinner. Look, I don't know about you but I'm starving. Can we get some lunch? You can just add it to what I already owe you."

"Lunch sounds good. Let's go see what they've got to offer."

Five minutes later they were seated in the hotel coffee shop and reading the menus. They ate silently keeping an eye on the other diners and making sure they weren't the object of anyone's interest. When they finished they sat for a few minutes over coffee.

"Skinner, we need to talk. We can't do it here. Can we adjourn this upstairs?" Krycek asked.

"Sure, why not." They stood to leave and Skinner paid their bill as they left and headed for the elevator. "You want to give me a clue as to what this is about?" he asked when they got inside.

"Not until we're in the room." Krycek answered.

"OK." Skinner accepted that answer and waited until they got inside his room then he asked. "So what is it?"

Krycek nodded to the table and chairs and asked, "Mind if I sit down?" 

"Help yourself," Skinner waved him over and sat himself at the small desk; turning his chair to face Krycek.

Krycek drummed his fingers on the table and began. "You saved my live back there. I made you a promise. I said I'd do anything you wanted if you got me out of there; I mean to keep that promise."

Skinner just stared at him waiting for him to make his point.

"I meant it, Skinner. I _will_ do anything you want. All you have to do is name it."

"If you have the means; you can pay for this trip. If you don't, we'll just forget it."

"Oh I intend on doing that anyway as soon as we get back to DC. But that had nothing to do with our deal. I owe you and I pay my debts."

"Krycek there's nothing I want from you except for you to leave me alone. Can you manage to do that?"

Krycek stared at him then said, "Yes, I can do that. And I can do more than that. I have information; information that could be very useful to you."

"I'm not in to blackmail, Krycek."

"Not that kind of information. I know you have questions. I can give you the answers; whatever you want to know."

Skinner got up and went over to the cupboard where their few items stood and opened a bottle of water. He took a long drink and went back and sat down.

"You don't have to tell me anything. I wouldn't have left you there like that."

Krycek ran a hand through his hair and stared at him. "You don't want the information?"

"Not if you think it's a debt you owe me for getting you out of there."

"Christ, Skinner! How can you be so damn noble?"

"Krycek, if you've got something you want to tell me, then tell me. Just don't make it sound like it's payment due."

"All right. As far as the old man is concerned, I'm still chained up in that basement. So if you find out things about him, it couldn't possibly come from me."

"Whatever you have to tell yourself; is fine by me."

"I can give you names, addresses, his contacts in the Bureau. I can tell you when and where meetings were held and what was discussed. I can tell you where he keeps files on people, including the film he has on you disposing of that postal worker's body. I have information about Mulder and his family. I know when and how Samantha died. I can tell you some about the old man's connection with the Oileans; I don't know it all but I can tell you what I know. Does any of this sound like it's of interest to you?"

"And how would I know that a word of it was true? You're not exactly what I'd consider a reliable source, Krycek."

Krycek leaned back in the chair and stretched his legs out. "All right; I had that coming. You got it in. Now do you want the information or not?"

Skinner picked up a piece of hotel stationery and pulled out his pen. "OK. What's the old man's address?"

Krycek rattled it off then added, "Of course he's not always there. He moves around a lot. That's where he stays when he's in DC."

"Where is this location where he keeps his files on people?" 

Krycek gave him the address then added, "It's in the warehouse district. The old Arco Oil building. There's a secret compartment under the floor in the office. It's under the desk."

Skinner scribbled the information down; then asked, "Who are his contacts inside the Bureau?"

"There's Ken Ainsley, he's one of AD Wade's agents; he's the newest one. Mark Slater down in the lab, Betty Jenkins in Personnel, Mathews down in transportation, Al Billings who's the assistant for AD Skruggs and I'm sure you already know about DD Kersh."

"Kersh? Why does that not surprise me. You think Cassidy knows about him?" 

"That I couldn't tell you. There have been times when I suspected her too but I've never been able to make the connection."

"That's it?" Skinner asked as he finished his list.

"As far as I know. I can tell you about three that the old man had taken out for screwing up."

"From the Bureau?" 

"Yes. They worked for him for a while and for one reason or another, he got rid of them."

"Names?" 

"Timothy Battles, traffic accident last year; Jeremy Berenson, drowning and Beverly Evans, heart attack at age 36."

"I don't suppose you have any proof?" 

"There's no proof to be had. These things are taken care of and no loose ends are left lying around to tie the group to them."

"So what good is the information then?" Skinner asked wondering if he was just spinning his wheels here.

"It's the truth. All of those deaths were classified accidental. If they were investigated thoroughly, the truth would come out. It usually does sooner or later."

"What about you?" Skinner asked.

"What about me?"

"Will the truth about you ever come out?"

"That I'm still alive?"

"Why you left the Bureau; why you decided to throw in with the likes of Spender and his group."

Krycek rubbed the back of his neck and rolled his head. "Aren't there any other questions you'd rather ask me?"

"You said you'd answer any question I had."

"I was referring to the old man."

"This involves the old man. Why did you go to work for him?"

"It's a long story, Skinner and I'm sure it would bore you to death."

"We've got nothing better to do and lots of time to kill."

"I was just in a bad place in my life; I wanted to get back at everybody, the establishment, the world. He offered me the opportunity to cause some major damage and I took it. It's as simple as that."

"Tell me about this bad place you were in. What happened to put you there?"

"You really want to hear about my personal problems?"

"I want to know what makes someone like you do the things you do."

"All right, if you really want to know, I'll tell it to you from the beginning."

"That sounds like a good place to start."

"First of all, I'm gay. My last year at Quantico I met someone. He was in the Army, a General's son. I don't know if you even believe in such things, but we fell in love. We saw each other every chance we got. I had only been at the Bureau a few months when I got a frantic call from him one night. He said his dad had found out about us and that it was over. He said what we'd been doing was wrong and that he hated himself for it and that he hated me." Krycek stood up and began to pace as he told his story.

"I was in shock. We had been making plans. He was going to get out of the Army and try to get into Quantico like he'd always wanted. We were planning on getting a place to live together. Then I get this call that not only was he breaking up with me but that he hated me!"

He stopped his pacing to ask Skinner, "Are you sure you want to hear this?" 

"Go on with your story." Skinner prodded.

"I was really out of it for about a week when he called me again. He said he wanted me to come over; to meet him in the pool house like we had been doing. I was so excited; I was sure he had changed his mind. I hurried over as fast as I could. He met me with a hug, like he always had before but things were different. He was crying." Krycek stopped to clear his throat; then walked to the window and stood staring out.

"I asked him what was wrong. He said he loved me but he hated what he was, what he'd become. He said he didn't want to be gay and that his father insisted there had never been a gay in his family and there never would be. They had a terrible fight. I begged him to go away with me; to leave right then but he refused. He said he couldn't do that. He was a Sullivan and Sullivans served their country. His entire family was military; back for generations. He said he couldn't disgrace them. I asked him what he was going to do and … he started yelling for his father. I thought he'd gone crazy or something. But his father came out and saw me there. He was furious but he never got a word out.

Danny screamed at him, 'Don't worry, father. I won't disgrace the family.' Then he turned to back to me and it was the first time I saw the gun. It all happened so fast. He said 'I love you Alex' and he put the gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger." Krycek put his face against the window pane and the coolness helped some but the tears still came. He walked passed Skinner and went into his room, into the bathroom and slammed the door.

Skinner was stunned. He didn't know what he expected but it wasn't anything like this.

A few minutes later Krycek came back into the room and sat back down at the table. His eyes were red and swollen. He continued his story. "The General yelled at me to get out, get off his property and never some back. There was a story in the paper the next day about the terrible accident the General's son had while cleaning his gun. I had a visit from some of the General's friends and was told my presence at the funeral was not welcome and if I showed up I would be 'taken care of'. I got the message. I stayed away. It was two weeks to the day after the funeral that Spender approached me. He apparently new all about it, offered me a chance to get back at the Military and I jumped at it; right through the gates of hell. And I've been paying for it every since."

Skinner was speechless. He had no further questions.

"Look, my head is killing me. I'd like to catch a little nap. I'll answer whatever questions you come up with afterwards; if that's OK?"

"Yeah, sure thing; go ahead," Skinner stood and went to his bag; "Here," he dumped two extra strength Tylenol into Krycek's hand then added. "I didn't get much sleep last night either. I could use a nap myself."

Skinner lay on his bed staring at the ceiling and thought about Krycek and remembered a line his mother used to say, "There, but for the grace of God, go I." It was so fitting in this situation. He could remember feeling the exact same way. The only difference was, he was in the middle of a war, he had a rifle and he was encouraged to kill people. They gave him a medal for it. And Krycek? He walked blindly into the hands of the Consortium. "Jesus Christ!" he whispered as he rolled over and punched his pillow into shape. "Jesus fucking Christ!" He wondered what he would have done if he had met the old man back then. He let his mind wander into painful territory then and squeezed his eyes shut to stem the tears.

When he opened his eyes again it was dark. A glance at his watch showed it was after eight in the evening. He got up, relieved himself in the bathroom and stepped through the connecting door into Krycek's room. He was sitting on the side of his bed in the dark.

"You OK?" Skinner asked, "How's the head?"

"Better."

"Let's get something to eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"Yes you are. It's been hours since we ate."

"I can't eat anything right now."

"Yes you can. You need to get your strength back. You won't do that unless you eat."

Krycek stood up and ran his hand through his hair, smoothing it down as they headed for the door.

"After we eat we'll hit the gift shops; see if we can find you something else to wear. You need to change. We'll see about getting you some toiletries. They usually have those kinds of things in these shops."

They gave their order and sat sipping their water when Skinner asked, "Do you have any plans for when you get back?"

"Just one. I have a safety deposit box. I'll get the money I owe you and then I'll take off."

"Don't worry about the money; you might need it. Any idea where you'll go or what you'll do?"

"I use to fantasize about it, just taking off and getting lost but I knew he'd find me. I'm pretty sure he's got a tracking device on me. First thing I'll need to do is pay a visit to a doctor and see about finding it and getting it removed and pray that I can get that done before he finds me. Hopefully he won't be looking for me right away and I can get it done before he realizes I'm no longer chained to that bed."

"Krycek, for what it's worth, I think you're paid for your mistakes." Skinner said and he meant it.

"No I haven't."

Skinner looked around; making sure no one was close enough to hear their conversation.

"So is this about punishing yourself now or do you just enjoy living on the dark side?"

Krycek's eyes came up to meet Skinners. "Skinner, we both know there is nothing I can ever do to make up for the things I've done in the past. Let it go."

"You were not responsible for Danny's death; you have no reason to go on punishing yourself."

"Let it go, Skinner. You have no idea what it was like; what we went through; how we had to sneak around to be together; hide the way we felt from everyone; terrified all the time that if we were discovered we'd loose our careers or some nut would catch us together and kill us. I've been on the run most of my life. I wouldn't know how to live any other way. You have no idea; no idea at all."

"Yes I do!" Skinner answered quietly and Krycek looked back up at him again. "My circumstances were a world different from yours yet basically the same." Skinner cleared his throat and continued.

"I met Earl in basic. We were both eighteen. We were assigned to the same unit, got shipped to Nam at the same time and spent twenty months over there trying to keep each other and our buddies alive. We had made plans to spend the rest of our lives together. One day we were coming back from patrol. We had found a wounded enemy and were bringing him back to base. It all happened so fast …" He had to stop a minute and take a few deep breaths before going on. "It was all just a blur of movement and Earl was on the ground and the prisoner was running and Anderson and Blevins were firing at him. Earl died in my arms with his own knife in his chest." Skinner took a sip of water and looked around the restaurant. Everything was as it should be; he was back again sitting at the table and the jungles of Viet Nam were far away.

"After that, all I wanted to do was kill. I had a rifle, there were enemies all around, and that's what I did; I killed. I killed a lot more than I should have. I killed an old man just standing there in a field with a hoe, I killed a child, I killed soldiers who were trying to surrender. It didn't matter. I killed all I could. They gave me a medal for it."

Krycek shook his head sadly, "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"Of course not. No one did. It was something we had to hide and we did."

"No one ever found out?"

"Some suspected, I'm sure, but none of them made it back."

"And you were able to … handle everything once you got back?"

"It's easy to handle your misery when you're hospitalized for months on end. Whatever's bothering you they all think it's the result of your wounds. I had wounds no medical doctor could cure."

"You got married; made a life for yourself."

"A marriage that never should have happened. She was a rich society girl who loved to parade around with her Marine war hero. I just desperately wanted to get back to a normal life. We were married seventeen years but mostly she led her life and I led mine."

"You made a good career for yourself. The youngest AD ever at the Bureau; everyone admires and respects you."

"Yeah. Right. That and a dollar will get you a cup of coffee."

Their meal was served then and conversation stopped. After dinner they headed for the shops and picked up a change of clothes and some supplies for Krycek. Once back in their rooms Krycek showered, shaved and changed clothes. Skinner did the same.

Skinner called through the open door way into Krycek's room. "They have room service here; would you like a drink?"

"No thanks. I'm not much of a drinker. This bottled water is fine." Krycek joined him at the door.

"It is kind of late and we have a long flight ahead of us tomorrow. I'm not really sleepy though, are you?" Skinner asked.

"Not really. Do you have more questions you'd like to ask?" 

"Sure, if you feel up to it." Skinner stepped aside and Krycek entered his room and took a seat at the table. Skinner resumed his seat at the desk and asked, "You said you had information about Mulder's family?"

"Yeah, I do. Some time ago when Mulder found out there had been a relationship between his mother and Spender there was some time spent wondering if Spender might be his biological father. Spender wondered the same thing and had some tests run. I was the one who picked up the results from the lab for him. At the last minute, he didn't want to know the truth and told me to burn the files. I did; but I looked at them first. Spender was NOT Mulder's father. Then there is Mulder's never ending quest to find Samantha.

This is what really happened. Everyone who was a member of the group at that time had to give a member of their family over for the tests; you know that much from the Casandra Spender incident. Mr. Mulder chose to give them Samantha. There was a big fight in the family at the time which resulted in the Mulder's divorce. Mulder was there when it happened but he was still little more than a child himself. They drugged him and one of their mind-bending specialists did a number on him; planting memories of aliens taking her away. She lived only a few months and died in one of their laboratories. There have been clone replicas of her since but the real Samantha is long dead."

Skinner frowned at the news but wasn't all that surprised by it. "I figured she was dead or something would have turned up on her by now." Skinner said.

"Is there anything else you want to know?" 

"I'm sure I'll think of something. In the mean time, do you have a doctor who can check you out for that tracking device? If not, I know someone."

"I have a doctor who'll do it for me. The only problem is he's in DC and I have to be careful about being seen there."

"I've got an idea. Why don't you stay at my place until you get it set up? I don't think Spender would be looking for you in that part of town. It'd be safe and give you a little while to get back on your feet before you take off."

"You don't have to do that, Skinner."

"I want to. You need a safe place to stay for a while and I'd like to help."

"Why?"

"Because I want to. If what you told me is true; and I believe that it is; then it's about time somebody gave you a helping hand."

"I don't need anybody's help. I've managed this long without it."

"Yeah, and you've done a splendid job so far; haven't you?" He immediately regretted those words when he saw the look in Krycek's eyes; just a twitch of the muscle under his left eye, a flash of pain; then the shield of bravado was back up and he looked away.

"I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry. Just … consider it an offer. My place is there if you want to use it."

"You've already done enough." Krycek stood and walked to the doorway then added, "Whatever else you want answers to, I'll deal with it tomorrow." He hesitated a moment then added, "Is that OK?"

"Yes. It's late. Tomorrow will be fine."

They slept in the next morning and managed to wake up just a couple of hours before their flight. They cleaned up, packed and had a quick bite to eat at the coffee shop in the lobby. Afterwards Skinner fed some cash into the machines and bought snacks and bottled water for the trip. He also bought a small digital recorder in the gift shop and a few magazines. By the time he was finished paying for his last purchases they were announcing boarding for their flight.

Once they were in the air and on their way, Skinner got out the recorder. They were sitting well in the back of the plane and there were no other passengers within ear shot.

He turned the recorder on, handed it to Krycek and said, "I want everything you can tell me about the Consortium."

Krycek began talking then and gave a complete run down; names, places, dates, any and all information he had. He stopped only when they had completed the first leg of their flight and landed in Miami a few hours later. They had dinner at the airport and this time Kyrcek wolfed down his entire meal with enthusiasm. Skinner commented on it.

"I'm glad to see that you're appetite has returned."

Krycek wiped his mouth on his napkin. "It's amazing. Yesterday I could barely eat; today, I'm starving and can't seem to get enough."

"You'll start getting your strength back now that you're eating. I notice your cough is a lot better; getting out of that cellar and into the fresh air helped. You should be back to normal in a few more days.

They re-boarded for their flight into DC where Krycek took up the recorder and began again. He talked for another two hours then turned the recorder off.

"OK if I stop for a while?" Krycek asked and took a drink from his bottled water.

"Yes. You've already given me enough information to put a fleet of agents to work for a year." Skinner took the recorder back and pocketed it.

"That's about all I can think of right now. I'm going to nap for a while."

"Sounds good to me. Thank you for this." Skinner replied.

"You're welcome." Krycek answered then lowered the back of his seat and closed his eyes. Skinner did the same.

"I can give you all the information you need to take the old man down; but I can't testify in open court. I'd never make it to trial and you know that."

"I'm not asking you to testify. If you have more information then I'd like to hear it. I can act on it and not have to identify where it came from; as long as it's legit."

"It's legit all right. You'll find out soon enough once you start digging." He turned to his side then and in moments he was fast asleep.

Their plane landed in DC just past midnight; Skinner with his bag slung over his shoulder and Krycek carrying his few items in a shopping bag.

"Do you have someplace to go?" Skinner asked as they made their way out to the parking area.

"I'll find a place somewhere." Krycek answered, pulling his jacket closer around him against the cool night air.

"Look; my car is right over there. Why not just come home with me. I've got a guest room and a full pantry and freezer. Give yourself a few days to think things out; decide where you want to go and what you want to do. Also … I still have more questions I need answers to. You promised to answer them all." He actually had no more questions but he'd think up some. He just didn't want to let Krycek go off on his own yet; he wasn't strong enough. And he was sure if Krycek walked away now he'd never see him again. He didn't quite understand it; but he couldn't let that happen.

"All right; if you're sure; I am really tired." Krycek answered and walked with him towards Skinner's car.

"You'll pick up in a day or two. You just need some good food and some sleep." He unlocked the car and they both got in.

Once back in Skinner's condo, he showed Krycek to the guest room and headed for bed.

It was their third night back from Honduras when a noise awakened Skinner in the middle of the night. He listened for a moment trying to place it; then got up and made his way across the hall to the guest room. The door was ajar so he pushed it open.

Alex was crying; crying like the lost soul that he was. Something inside of Skinner melted away; the last vestiges of hatred that he had held for this man.

He walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge. He reached out with his left hand and pressed it to the back of Alex's neck. Alex froze.

"It's OK, Alex. Go ahead and cry. What they did to you was beyond despicable." He continued to massage the back of Alex's neck.

Alex hand reached out from under the pillow and grasped Walter's other hand and held on tight. The tears came then; there was no holding them back and he no longer tried. He kept his face down though; buried in the pillow and turned away.

After Alex clamed down a bit Walter said, "You know what you need? You need a haircut." He fingered the longish hair that reached to the back of Alex's neck.

Alex sniffled and looked up and wondered if he had heard right. "Huh?" 

"I've never seen you with hair this long. It's much sexier and more intimidating when you keep it short and spikey." Walter caressed the back of Alex's head.

"A haircut?" Alex turned a tear stained face up at Walter.

"That's right, Alex. The world goes on; we have to go on with it; no matter what damage has been done to our souls; we have to go on. Otherwise, the bastards win."

"I'm not as strong as you are." His face was back in the pillow again.

"You're stronger." Walter insisted. "I made it, yes; but with a lot of help. I was fortunate enough to have my moment with destiny half a world away in the middle of a war zone. My reactions were screened by combat, my emotional collapse, considered by all to be the result of my wounds and I was treated with great care. You didn't have any of those benefits. You were completely alone. You had no help; no kid-glove treatment and yet you made it. I can understand now why you did a lot of the things you did."

"Most people wouldn't." Alex replied.

"Fuck 'em." Walter said and grinned at the shocked expression on Alex's face.

"All any of us can do, Alex, is the best we can. We all make mistakes but that doesn't mean we should be punished for them for the rest of our lives. You've done your time in hell. You've paid in full. It's time to start thinking about a new life; a new start somewhere where no one knows you."

"Anywhere I go, I'll still be alone." Alex said sadly.

"There are no warrants on you; the old man thinks you're in Honduras or dead. It's an open door. Take it. Point your finger to a place on the map and start driving. When you see someplace you like, then stop. Make a life for yourself. One you can be proud of. You can do it; I know you can."

Alex stared up at him and wiped the tears off his face with the back of his hand.

"That won't stop the nightmares."

"You're right; it won't. But after a time, they will lessen in frequency and in importance. You can make a life for yourself though; a good one. If that's what you want."

"It is. I'm just so tired of it all; tired of being alone."

"I know," Walter said and continued to caress the back of Alex's neck and head. "You're not alone now though. You've got one friend at least who understands—me. Let me help you. Before you know it, you'll get settled in somewhere and make new friends. There's a whole life out there waiting for you. You've just got to set your mind on what you want and go after it."

"You make it sound so easy."

"It isn't. It's hard. Probably the hardest thing you'll ever do; but it'll be worth it. A new life, Alex; isn't that worth just about any price you have to pay for it?"

"I guess it is but …" 

"No buts, Alex. It IS worth it. You can do it. I know you can."

"You have a lot of confidence in someone that you've hated for so many years." Alex put his face back into the pillow.

"I hated you because I hated the things that you did. I never really knew you before this last week."

"You don't hate me any more?" 

"No. I understand you now. I still hate the things you did but now I understand why you did them."

"I don't see the difference."

"There is a difference; a big one. So how about it; are you going to let me help you?" 

"You've already helped me more than anyone else in my life ever has." He turned his face back to Walter again.

"And I want to keep on helping you. Tomorrow is your MRI. Let me drive you there."

"You don't need to do that. I can take a bus. It goes within a few blocks of the clinic."

"And how many people will see you doing that? Do you really want to take the chance that someone might see you and report back to the old man? You said the appointment was for 9:30pm. I'll be home from work by then, I'll swap cars with a buddy of mine in case there are any cameras around the place. We can wear hats, turn our collars up and we'll be just two other John Does walking into a clinic."

"There'd be no need for you to come in." Alex said.

"Yes there is. A full body scan takes a long time; flat on your back. You won't be able to do it with a weapon by your side. You'll most likely be in one of those hospital gowns and nothing else for at least an hour or more. And if they find anything you'll want it taken out immediately; that's more time on your back, unarmed. I'm coming in so I can keep an eye on things while you're getting it done."

Alex just stared at him.

"That gives us two days to figure out where you want to go and get you ready for it."

"I don't understand … Why do you even want to get involved in this?"

"You need help; I'd like to be the one to give it to you."

Alex thought about it for a few minutes then said, "I need a car. Something that can't be traced. Can you do that?"

"I can. Consider it done. What else? How about some cash?"

"No, I have plenty. I just need to get to it."

"I can get it for you."

"No; it's not in DC; it's in Chicago."

"That's just four hours by plane."

"It's in a safety deposit box; the key is in my apartment."

"Tell me where it is and I'll get it for you."

"They're probably watching the place; it won't be safe."

"So how were you planning on getting it?"

"I was going to sneak in past them."

"That's even more dangerous. If they so much as get a glimpse of you, they will know you're not dead. Let me go. If I get caught, I can say that someone told me where you lived and I was trying to find you to question you."

"They might shoot first and ask questions later."

"I doubt that. They don't want to draw attention to themselves. It'll work, Alex. Just tell me where it is and where you've hidden the key. I'll go right now and bring it to you."

"It's the middle of the night."

"That's the best time to do something like this. Fewer people out and about."

"You really want to take that chance?"

"I do. So tell me; where am I going?"

"Warehouse district. East side; right where all those old apartment houses begin."

"I know where that is."

"1228 Warton Street, third building from the corner off Cranston, Apartment 617. Your best access is the side door. They keep it locked; will that be a problem?"

"No."

"The stairs are right by the door. Once you get to the sixth floor, take the hallway to your left. It's the last apartment on the right."

"Locked, I assume?" 

"Uh huh. Two locks; knob and bolt. Both standard. You shouldn't have any trouble getting in."

"Traps?"

"No. There's nothing in there that anyone could find unless they knew where to look."

"So where do I look?"

"Under the refrigerator."

"Under it?"

"That's right. It slides out easily. Four tiles aren't glued down. Lift them up and you will see a small finger hole. That will lift a board up. There's a briefcase there. The key and some running money are in there."

"OK. Anything else you want out of your apartment?" 

"No nothing. I'd rather leave it the way it is. I'm sure they've been there and know what all is in there."

"You sure they don't know about this hiding place?" 

"Yeah; pretty sure. The front wheels of the refrigerator have locks on them. I installed them backwards. You'll have to reach under and flip them up before you can move it. Anyone else trying to move it wouldn't be able to without a lot of muscle."

"OK." Skinner stood up then and headed for the door."

"Skinner …"

"Yeah?"

"Be careful. If you notice anyone around just forget about it. It's not worth risking your life."

"I'll be back in about an hour."

Krycek nodded and laid his aching head back down on the damp pillow.

Skinner parked the borrowed pick up in the alley behind the building. He sat in the darkness for several moments, looking around with his night-vision glasses until he was sure nothing was stirring. He slipped out of his vehicle and edged his way around the building to the side entrance. A moment of work with his little tool and he was inside. He pulled the ski mask down over his face just in case there were hidden cameras around. He took the six flights of stairs easily and without a sound from his rubber-soled shoes. He waited and listened before he opened the door and went into the hallway.

No one was around. The place was silent. He hurried down the hall and jimmied the door of #617. In an instant he was in. He went straight to the kitchen and knelt down in front of the refrigerator. Slipping a gloved hand underneath, he found the locks and released them. He stood up and pulled and the refrigerator slid right out.

Just as Krycek had said, the four squares of tile in the middle were loose and lifted easily. A finger in the hole and the board was removed. He pulled the briefcase out and replaced the board, then the tiles. He shoved the refrigerator back into place; knelt down and clicked the locks back into place and, briefcase in hand, headed for the door.

He opened the door a crack and listened. Not a sound. He pulled the door closed and locked behind him and hurried down the hall to the stairway door. This time the silence was broken by a baby crying somewhere down the other end of the hall. He was through the door and heading down the stairs and at the bottom before anyone had a chance to stir. Another few minutes and he was in the pickup with the briefcase at his side. He shoved the ski mask in his pocket and waited for the adrenalin rush to settle before driving quickly out of the area. After dropping the pickup off at his friend's place, he made his way home. He took the maintenance elevator and checked his watch as he turned the key in his lock. He'd been gone fifty-three minutes.

Krycek was waiting for him when he came through the door; pacing the floor in his sweat pants and T-shirt.

"Are you OK? Did you get it? Did anything happen?" He fired the questions at Skinner.

"I'm fine; yes, I got it; and no, nothing happened. The place was quite as a church and I didn't see or hear anything stirring until I was leaving then I heard a baby cry down the hall but I was on my way out of there and didn't see anyone. I'm pretty sure no one saw me."

"You'd be pretty recognizable if they do have cameras watching the place." Krycek said as he took the briefcase Skinner held out to him.

"Not in this." Skinner pulled the ski mask out of his pocket and put it on; then took it back off.

A relieved smile crossed Krycek's face. "You wore that?" 

"I did; and my night-vision glasses. I wore gloves and I didn't turn on any lights. I didn't see anyone anywhere around your building. I don't think the old man knows you're not still in Honduras yet."

"Let's hope he doesn't find out until I get this tracking device removed."

"You're that sure you've got one? I mean, wouldn't you have known if one was put in?"

Skinner asked as he removed his jacket and hung it in the closet.

"Yeah, I am. I've been to Consortium doctors several different times for this." He held up his prosthesis. "And for other wounds I've received over the years. It could have been put in any time. I won't feel free of them until I'm sure one way or the other."

"I can understand that. Don't forget; I'm going with you." Skinner said.

Krycek was busy scanning the outside of the briefcase to see if it had been tampered with.

"I didn't open it." Skinner said.

"I didn't think you would. I just want to make sure no one else has. Can I borrow your magnifying glass?"

"Sure." Skinner got it out of his desk drawer and brought it over to him.

Krycek held it up to the light and ran the glass over it carefully. "It's clean. No finger prints." He worked the combination on the lock and waited a few minutes before running the last two numbers. No problem. He clicked the briefcase opened and checked out its contents. He dumped everything out on the coffee table and worked the inside corner of the lining loose. Sticking two fingers inside, he pulled out a small key."

"That's it?" Skinner asked.

"That's it." Krycek smiled.

"OK. I'm about done in for this evening. I'll make arrangements to fly to Chicago. I don't have any appointments scheduled in the morning. With any luck; I'll be back by early afternoon."

"I don't know what to say, Skinner. I can do this myself, you know?" 

"Sure you could. But it'd be much safer if you just stayed put here in the condo; the fewer people who see you; the better. Now I think I'd like to try and get a few hours sleep before I leave."

"Oh, yeah, sure." Krycek returned the contents to the briefcase and followed Skinner up the stairs.

The next morning at breakfast they talked over coffee. "So what exactly am I picking up in Chicago? Will it fit in a briefcase or should I take along a sports bag?"

"It'll fit in a briefcase. Just take everything that's in the safety deposit box. Remember to wear gloves."

"Already have them in my coat pocket; this time of the year in Chicago you'd be more conspicuous if you _weren't_ wearing gloves." Skinner finished off his coffee and rinsed out the cup. "Have you given any thought to where you'll go?"

"Yeah, I have but nothing definite yet. I'll probably just take off and drive until I get tired of driving."

"Sounds like a pretty good plan to me. You know," Skinner added as he shouldered into his coat, "I envy you in a way; a whole new start in life. The possibilities are endless."

"I think that may be why I'm having such a hard time deciding what I want to do. I mean, before … before I got mixed up with the group; all I ever can remember wanting to do was to become a cop."

"Well, that's probably out of the question with finger printing and all. I think I'd pretty much stay away from military and governmental type careers. What do you like to do for fun? Maybe you can find something in a field that you really enjoy doing."

"There's no reason why I have to make a decision right now; I can take off and make up my mind later."

"Absolutely. You're free as a bird. Or at least you will be once we get that tracking device removed."

"Tomorrow night. I can hardly wait."

"The time will pass fast. We've got a lot to do in the mean time. I'll get your stuff from Chicago and by this afternoon I should have a car for you. I'll see to it that it's serviced and ready for the road. Speaking of the road, I'd better get going. I don't want to miss that plane."

"Watch your back, Skinner."

"I will."

The flight arrived right on schedule at 9:02 and he took a taxi to the bank. He scanned the lobby for the cameras and made an effort to keep turned the other way. He waited for a few minutes in line then he was taken back to the safety deposit box area and the box was set on a table in front of him. The bank's key was inserted in the lock and the attendant left him alone. Skinner placed his briefcase on the table and then opened the box. He immediately transferred all the contents into his briefcase. He snapped his briefcase shut, spun the lock, then closed the safety deposit box and rang for the attendant. He waited ten minutes out front for his taxi and then he was on his way back to the airport.

He kept the briefcase on his lap the entire trip back. He didn't know what was in all those thick envelopes and small boxes but he suspected there was a great deal of cash and he didn't want to take any chances. No one paid him any attention. It was a business man's flight and there were many other briefcases and lap tops riding on laps.

He arrived back at 1:20 and grabbed a sandwich out of a machine in the lobby before heading for his car. He glanced around occasionally but saw no one he recognized and no one seemed to be paying any attention to him. He was just one more of thousands who pass through the air port on a daily basis.

In his car on the way home he called his friend and confirmed that the car was ready and would be parked at the clinic the next evening.

Krycek jumped to his feet when he heard the key in the door. Skinner walked in with a smile on his face and said, "Piece of cake!" and handed Krycek the briefcase.

Krycek pulled his briefcase out from behind the sofa, emptied the contents from Skinner's case into his and gave Skinner his briefcase along with a hopeful grin. "No problems?"

"No; not a one," Skinner smiled back. "Oh, and I just talked with my friend and your car will be waiting for you tomorrow evening at the clinic."

"And who's name is it registered in; yours?" 

"No, no; some obscure corporate name out of Switzerland; virtually untraceable."

"This all sounds too good to be true. If everything goes as planned tomorrow at the clinic; I'll be free and on my way."

"Now if there is a device and the doctor takes it out; I'd like to have it."

"You want your people to take a look at it?" 

"No. They've seen them before; in Duane Berry. I have a friend who travels to South America a lot. I'll have him take it and drop it in the ocean somewhere off Honduras."

Krycek smiled. "That way, if he does try to locate me with the device; he'll think my body was disposed of in the ocean. Good thinking. He wouldn't ask any questions?"

"Oh I'm sure he will but he's a good friend I've known most of my life. He'll accept what ever answer I give him."

"I'll never be able to thank you for all you've done for me." Krycek said as he caressed the briefcase still resting in his lap.

"You already have. You've answered every question that I put to you, you've cleared up some old cases and you've given me more information on the Consortium than the Bureau has ever even hoped to have."

Krycek drummed his fingers on top on his briefcase at a loss for words.

"I'm going on into the office and get caught up on some work. Do you like pasta?"

"Huh?" Krycek was brought back from his thoughts. "Pasta? Sure; I love it."

"Good. I'll stop by Momma Rosa's on the way home and pick up dinner.

"I love Momma Rosa's." Krycek said as he walked with Skinner towards the door.

"I do too. She makes the best Lasagna in town. Lasagna OK? Or would you prefer something else?"

"Lasagna sounds perfect." Krycek agreed, his mouth already watering.

"Lasagna it is then. I'll see you this evening."

"Yeah. I'll be waiting. For the Lasagna, I mean." Krycek grinned.

For the first time, Skinner saw something in that grin; something he'd never seen before. He couldn't put a name on it; but he liked it. He liked it a lot. He was a little flustered as he left and headed to work.

He thought a lot about Krycek on the drive in to the Hoover. He had realized before that he never really knew Krycek and now he was coming to realize something new. This Krycek; the one waiting for him in his condo; was a very intriguing man. He had known Krycek for over eight years now and this was the first time he'd ever noticed that he had green eyes. Not just any green eyes; but dark emerald green eyes with thick long eye lashes.

Just thinking about those green eyes made him almost miss his turn-off. He pulled into the Hoover parking lot and had to adjust himself before he got out. Alex Krycek! Alex Nicholas Krycek Hmmmmmmm Who knew?

It was a long afternoon. Skinner called in advance and ordered take out from Momma Rosa's and it was ready when he got there at 6:30. He hurried on home as fast as he could in the evening traffic and the food was still piping hot when he let himself into his condo.

He walked in to find the table set and soft music coming from his favorite CDs on the player. He called out but there was no answer. He went upstairs and heard the shower running in the guest bathroom. He went on into his room and changed out of his work clothes into jeans and a Henley. He was twisting off the cork from a wine bottle when Krycek came back down stairs.

"Hey, thanks for setting the table. Hope you're hungry."

"Oh man; it smells delicious. I knew you were here the minute I got out of the shower. I could smell it all the way upstairs. You're early tonight."

"Yeah, I've been thinking about this all day; the lasagna, I mean." Skinner flushed a little as he poured them each a glass of wine. He tried not to notice how good Alex looked; his hair still dripping little rivulets down the side of his neck.

"Me too." Alex said as he seated himself across from Walter and accepted the wine.

Skinner served them both then sat down as well. "You like Jazz?" he asked as they started in on their meal.

"Yeah, I do. Some of it. I find it soothing; relaxing."

They kept up the small talk about Jazz, the weather, the Hoover etc; while they finished their meal and lingered over the last of the wine.

"So how much longer are you going to stay on with the Bureau? You've got more than enough time in to retire?" Krycek asked.

"I hadn't really thought about it the last few years. I did at one time; when I first got tangled up with Spender but he seems to have directed his attentions elsewhere lately and left me pretty much alone."

"That will last only until he needs something from you; you do realize that, don't you?" 

"Yes I do. I figured when that day comes, it will be time for me to make a decision. I'll probably retire then."

"You think he'll just leave you alone then?" 

"He would have no further use of me; I'd no longer have access."

"That wouldn't matter, Walter. If something came up that he needed a man of your talents; he'd be there knocking on your door with his demands and his threats."

Skinner studied him for a few minutes before he spoke. "I suppose if that ever happens I'll have to stage a little disappearing act myself."

"It might be better to leave before that happens." Krycek ran a finger around the rim of his glass.

"I suppose it would make more sense to be gone before he even thought of making me one of his errand boys again."

"It would be safer. Once he starts putting the pressure on, he'll be watching you like a hawk. It would be a lot more difficult to get away then."

Skinner contemplated the situation while watching Krycek across from him. "It's something to think about."

Krycek smiled and nodded then stood and started clearing the table. Skinner stood and helped him. Leftovers were stored in the refrigerator and dirty dishes in the dishwasher then they went into the living room and sat down on either ends of the couch.

Krycek turned towards Skinner and asked, "So where would you go; what would you like to do if you were the one leaving tomorrow night to start a new life?"

"I don't know," Skinner said honestly, "I haven't given it any thought for years."

"Well you should think about it. That way you'd have some sort of plan in mind in case you ever decide to do it."

"I'd probably do what you're planning; just get in the car and drive until I found some place that appealed to me."

"Where would you like to live? Would you stay here in the north east or go west or south maybe?"

"I'd like to spend some time in all of those places but I think I'd like to settle in New England some where; maybe out in the country; some place away from all the traffic and pollution."

"Sounds great. I hate the big cities myself but they're much easier to get lost in."

"There is that; but there's also a lot more possibility of being seen by someone who's looking for you." Skinner warned.

"Uh huh. That's something to keep in mind. I've been going over several different cities and every one seems to have people that might know me."

"You need to pick a place where you've never been then."

"Then how will I know if I like it?"

"You'll have to just try it out and if you don't like it; you can always move on."

"Some times I think I'd like to be up in the mountains; in a cabin beside a lake somewhere; become a hermit. Just go into town once a month or so for supplies."

"That would be wonderful for a while but it might grow old. You'd probably have snow nine months out of the year; be snowed in half the time."

"I wouldn't mind. If I was snowed in that would mean others would be snowed out. I could relax; lay around all day, watch TV and get fat."

Skinner chuckled. "Somehow I can't imagine you being a couch potato. Maybe you could stay in town long enough to meet someone. That way you wouldn't have to be all alone up in that cabin of yours."

"No; I couldn't do that to anyone. I couldn't explain to someone all that has happened to me; no one would understand."

"You wouldn't have to tell them everything." Skinner reasoned.

"No; the nightmares would scare anyone to death; they would ask what caused them. Then what would I say?"

"Same thing I told Sharon back when my nightmares used to scare her half to death; that bad things happen sometimes and sometimes you dream about them. I was always vague; never specific."

"And she accepted that?"

"Uh huh."

"I wouldn't have."

They sat a few moments longer in silence then Skinner got up and said he was going to call it a night. They had a big day ahead of them tomorrow and they both needed to get some sleep. Krycek agreed and followed him up the stairs.

Skinner showered and got into bed with a melancholy sigh. One more night and it would all be over. Alex would be gone and he would be alone again. He worried for Alex and wondered where he would go and how he would spend his time. He wondered if the old man knew he was not in Honduras any more. Every time his mind slipped back into the terrible situation he had found Alex in, in Honduras; he became angry and a little sick to his stomach. How was Alex going to get over that? How could anyone recover from that? He pulled himself away from those memories and turned over and thought about the Alex in the next room; his Alex.

He was shocked when that thought entered his mind; 'his Alex'. Like they had just met and there was something there between them. He knew that wasn't possible; was it?

He was just dozing off and thinking about green eyes when he felt the covers being pulled back and the side of the bed dip down. They didn't speak; they didn't need to. Skinner opened his arms and Krycek came into them as though it was something he had always done.

The pent up passion between them ignited then and they gave into it; hands roaming everywhere searching, caressing, possessing; mouths clinging, tasting, savoring. Like two pieces of a puzzle they fit together perfectly from one position to the next; each giving what the other needed and taking what was given to them until they lay exhausted and twisted in the sheets, gasping for breath.

After a few moments Alex made a move to go and Walter pulled him back into his arms. He reached down and pulled the covers back up over them and pressed a kiss against top of Alex's head.

They awoke with a start at Skinner's alarm clock going off. Walter untangled himself from Alex and made his way into the bathroom. When he came out after his shower and shave, the room was empty. He dressed and hurried down stairs to the smell of coffee and toast.

"Tonight's the big night," was all he could think of to say.

Alex nodded and mumbled "Uh huh" and kept his eyes averted on the table top as he traced the pattern in the wood with a fingertip.

Skinner gulped his coffee and rinsed his cup out in the sink then stopped behind Alex's chair and squeezed his shoulder. "See you this evening." He picked up his briefcase and walked out the door.

Skinner didn't get much work done. He spent most of the morning pacing the floor; his mind besieged with notions that a month ago would have been laughed at. He argued with himself; whatever it was he was feeling was just some capricious fantasy that would pass once Alex was out of his condo and on his way to a new life. These thoughts had no place in his life. Not A.D. Walter Skinner's life. His life was this office, that stack of files and his agents and his superiors; certainly not with some green-eyed Consortium operative on the run.

Lunch time came and his assistant stuck her head in the door and asked if he wanted her to bring him back some lunch. He told her no, that he would be eating out. That was what he fully intended to do but once in his car; it was up on the highway and off to Crystal City.

Once inside his condo, he put his briefcase down beside his desk, removed his jacket and headed up stairs. He could hear the soft jazz playing and it was coming from his room; not the guest room. He walked in and found Alex lying on his bed face down and clutching his pillow.

He must have made a noise of some kind because Alex jerked around; exposing a tear stained face. In one swift movement Walter had him in his arms. Alex was clinging to him and babbling about being sorry. Walter kissed away the rest of the words.

Afterwards they lay in silence; Walter on his back and Alex on his side curled up against him.

"I've made a decision, Alex. Do you want to hear it?" 

"About what?" He settled his head more comfortably against Walter's shoulder; his hand combing through the grayish curls on Walter's chest.

"I'm leaving here with you tonight."

"I thought that was already settled. You're going to the clinic with me."

"That's not what I'm talking about. When you leave the clinic; I'm going with you."

Alex leaned up then, supporting himself on his prosthetic arm. "What are you talking about?"

"You. Me. This. We're good together, Alex. We understand each other. We have nothing to hide from one another. It could work; if we both wanted it to."

Alex came up off the bed like he'd been hit and started pulling on his clothes. "Are you out of your mind? You've got it _made _here, Walter. Why on earth would you want to take off with me? You may as well paint a target on your back! We both know it's only a matter of time before the old man finds me. Whether or not I get rid of this tracking device, he'll find me sooner or later." He was out of the door and heading downstairs.

Skinner grabbed his slacks and pulled them on as he followed him down. Alex was sitting on the couch and pulling his shoes on.

"Can't we at least talk about this?" Walter asked.

"NO! You're not coming with me and that's final!" 

Walter came over and sat down beside him; close but not touching. "I've been thinking about it all morning. It's what I want, Alex. I want out of here. I hate this place, I hate my job. I want a new start; a new life; and I want it with you."

"You're out of your mind. What about Mulder," he stood up now, needing to put some space between them. "And Scully? What about them? Who'd look after them?"

"They can damn well take care of themselves. It's about time; don't you think?" 

"That's beside the point. You're all they have to keep them out of trouble. Someone needs to keep an eye on them."

"I've done it for the last eight or nine years. It's someone else's turn now."

"People would find out, Walter. Your reputation would be ruined. You'd never be able to work for the government again if they knew you were involved with me."

"That sounds good to me. It's about time I retired." He kept his seat on the couch but favored Alex with a slow sweet smile.

"It's impossible. Don't even think about it." Alex shook his head but his defenses were weakening.

"I've already decided. I am retiring; I am leaving tonight. The rest is up to you. If you want me to; I'd love to leave with you and see if the two of us can make some kind of life for ourselves. If you're not interested …"

"That's not it, Walter, you know that!" Alex argued but his arguments were slowly slipping away.

Walter did get up then and went over to him. He rested his hands on Alex's shoulders and squeezed. "We're good together; you know we are."

"I know we're good in bed; but that's it." Alex kept resisting.

"Give me a chance to prove to you that I'm right; a couple of months at least. Is that too much to ask?"

"We may not live that long. You know if the old man does find us, he'll take you out in a heartbeat. You'll no longer be of any use to him and he'll have no reason to keep you alive."

"I'll take my chances. I know what I'm getting into and I can take care of myself. Besides; you need someone to watch your back."

"This is crazy."

"Uh huh," Walter agreed as he brought their mouths together; "crazy and wonderful and delicious and spontaneous and dangerous and exciting." Each word was punctuated by a kiss down the side of Alex's neck.

"That's not fair," Alex said but stretched his neck out so Walter could have easier access.

Walter pulled back and looked Alex in the eye. "Tell me you haven't been thinking about me leaving with you and we'll forget all about this. Tell me it hasn't crossed your mind."

Alex swallowed, "I'd be lying." He said and leaned back into Walter's embrace.

"You have until this evening to make up your mind. And I have that long to convince you that you need me."

"Walter, it would never work."

Skinner pulled him over to the couch and sat down with him. "If it doesn't work, we could go our separate ways. I think we should try."

"What if your friends find out you're with me? What would they think?"

"They'd think it was about time I got off my butt and found someone."

"They'd find out about me and then what?"

"I don't know about you but I never have hung out with a bunch of lily white choir boys."

Alex kept trying to think up reasons but he was running out of them. "What about your retirement?"

"What about it?" 

"You take off like this with no notice and it could delay it for months; maybe even years."

"I don't give a shit. Look around here. I don't exactly live a lavish life style. I've been banking at least two-thirds of my salary for years. And I was married to a woman from a very rich family; she left me more than enough to get by on for the rest of my life."

"You've got an answer for everything," Alex smiled at him.

"You're my answer, Alex. I'd like to think that maybe I could be yours."

Alex stood up and started pacing again. "I'm leaving tonight; in a matter of hours. There's no way you could be ready to leave that quickly."

"Why not? What have I got to hang around here for? I can type up my letter of resignation on the computer and send it in. A phone call to my attorney and he'll take care of the rest of it."

Alex was at a loss for words; he had run out of excuses.

Walter walked over to him, taking him in his arms. "I want you, Alex. And I keep getting the feeling that you want this too. If I'm wrong; you're going to have to tell me."

Alex clung to him then; all restraint lost. "You should hate me, Walter. I can't understand why you don't."

"I still hate what you did and I always will. I hate some of the things I've done too but I'm not going to let hate destroy what's left of my life. This is going to be a new life; a new start for both of us."

"I'll most likely be on the run for the rest of my life; you know that." He pulled back just far enough to look Walter in the eye.

"That's a possibility. But if that is the case; he'll be looking for one person; not two."

"You really think he still believes I'm in Honduras?" Alex asked with just a shred of hope in his eyes.

"I doubt they picked up the phone and called him. If he had any idea you were free, don't you think he'd be looking for you? Wouldn't that tracking device have brought him here by now?"

"He could be just now finding out; he could be on his way here right now."

"You're right. I think we should leave."

"Where are we going to go? It's still several hours before our appointment at the clinic."

"My friends place, come on." He took Alex by the arm and they took off up the stairs. Skinner pulled out his carry-on bag and started shoving clothes in. "Get your stuff together, Alex." He tossed him a sports bag.

"We could be dragging your friend into gunfire." Alex warned.

"Uh uh. He's in Europe. He has a high rise apartment in a full security building. And I have access."

Alex smiled and maybe for the first time started to think that this just might work out after all.

In less than five minutes they were down stairs again. Walter dumped the contents of his briefcase out on the top of his desk and opened his safe. He took out his important papers and passport, bundle of cash and stuffed them into his briefcase; the extra gun he stuck in his waist holster.

Krycek took his briefcase and dumped its contents into the sports bag, along with his other few belongings. He took out his gun and checked it and slipped it into his waist band. Walter had his bag strap over one shoulder, his lap top over the other and briefcase in hand as they headed for the door.

They both froze at the knock and drew their guns. Skinner motioned him back and they dropped their bags and stood aside, waiting for someone to come through the door. They both saw it at the same time; the small white piece of paper that was slipped under the door. They waited a few minutes before Skinner reached down and picked up the paper.

He threw his head back and laughed then handed the paper to Krycek. Krycek shoved his gun in his waist band and read the note printed by a child's hand:

_If you want any Girl Scout cookies I got lots. Come see Mary Anne in Apt. #1712._

Krycek looked up with a grin.

"I'm so glad you didn't shoot that little Girl Scout." Walter teased.

"Me? You were so fast on the draw I expected you to start shooting right through the door." Krycek laughed and didn't resist when Walter pulled him into his arms for a hug and suggested that they get out of there before it's the real thing next time.

They picked up their bags and headed down the back stairwell. Krycek knew the way well as he had used it many times before. He waited just inside the door while Skinner pulled his SUV around. Minutes later they were on their way and headed over to the Ledger building.

"Your friend's place is in the Ledger building? Pretty posh neighborhood."

"It's posh all right. He owns the building."

"He _owns _the Ledger building?"

"Uh huh. He lives in the penthouse suite. It's great. There's room service from the restaurant down stairs and a dumb waiter to deliver the food; not to mention state of the art security or the fact that he has a hot tub and keeps a fully stocked bar and kitchen.

"Wow; nice friends you've got there. I'm sure a Consortium operative will fit right in with them."

Skinner grinned, "EX Consortium operative," he said with a quick glance over at Krycek.

"OK; this is your ball game. I'm just along for the ride."

"Not to worry. We're almost there; just another few blocks. We'll leave the SUV there and take one of Tommy's vehicles to the clinic. That way nothing can be traced back to me if there are any cameras around."

"There aren't any in the clinic that I've been able to find. It's pretty small and kind of out of the way. I doubt many know about it."

"How did you find it?" Walter asked as he pulled into the parking area.

"I knew the guy. He did some work for the Englishman I worked for a few years back."

"And you trust him to be sure this isn't a set up?"

"Oh, I trust him. He hates the old man as much as I do."

Skinner pulled to a stop beside a security device and laid his open palm on it while it scanned. The solid steel door opened in front of them and he drove in. Krycek watched it close behind them.

"I've seen bank vaults that didn't have this much security." He grinned with more than a little relief.

Skinner drove in and parked. They got out and walked over to a wall while Krycek swiveled his head around watching everything carefully noting the other vehicles parked in the area. Skinner reached out and touched an invisible panel. The wall slid open exposing an elevator. They got on and in a moment it stopped on the top floor. The door slid open and they walked into an atrium facing beautifully etched floor to ceiling glass doors. Skinner stood over by the door and pressed the button after removing his glasses. The retina scan took only five seconds and the glass doors slid silently open. They walked in and the doors closed behind them.

"Bullet proof I'll bet," Krycek said.

"That's right. Bullet proof, fire proof and there's a helipad on the roof."

"Like I said; you got some nice friends."

"There's only one thing I'm interested in right now," Skinner said as they dropped their bags near the door, "and that's lunch. It's almost two o'clock and I haven't eaten yet. I'm starving; how about you?"

"I could do with a bite or two." Krycek agreed.

"Let's go raid the kitchen." They headed into the kitchen and in no time made themselves some over-stuffed sandwiches of salami and pepperoni and three or four different kinds of cheeses, lettuce on French bread. Skinner made a pitcher of iced tea and they settled down at the table and ate.

"I need to call Tommy." Skinner said, taking out his cell.

"I can go in the other room?" Krycek offered.

"No need. This will only take a minute." Skinner punched the numbers into the phone and waited.

"Hey, Tommy. I love this new cheese you got. Is this a different kind of salami?"

He grinned as his old Marine buddy vented.

"I know; I know. But I'm here now and where are you? Off gallivanting around Paris sniffing after some dancer."

He listened while Krycek watched the exchange.

"No, don't go cutting your visit short. I won't be here that long. I just wanted to tell you that I've taken your advice. I retired."

Silence while his friend talked.

"I'm not sure right now where we're headed. We haven't decided. Don't worry; I plan on keeping in touch. Listen, I need you to do a favor for me. I left my badge and gun in my desk drawer. As soon as you get around to it, can you see that they're picked up and taken over to the Hoover for me?"

Silence.

"No, nothing definite and yes, I did say 'we'. You don't know him but you will one of these days and I'm warning you in advance; hands off!" Skinner grinned.

Silence.

"No, no need. We'll be leaving in a couple of hours. We just needed a safe place to stay before we make our appointment. Once that's finished; we're out of here."

Silence.

"We don't think anyone is after us just yet but we don't want to take any chances. The General has already made arrangements for a car for us."

Silence.

"Now don't go giving him a hard time. He doesn't know anything about all this; I just had him make arrangements for an untraceable car for us."

Silence.

"Don't worry. I'll explain it all to you in good time. And Tommy; you're going to be jealous. He's got the most incredible green eyes you've ever seen."

Krycek snorted across the table and poured himself more tea.

"All right; I will; as soon as we get settled somewhere." He finished the conversation and pocketed his cell.

They finished their meal and placed the dishes in the dishwasher.

"We've still got a lot of time to kill; how do you feel about a dip in the hot tub?"

"Serious?"

"Yeah. Why not. C'mon. I'll show you to the guest rooms." Skinner led Krycek down the hall and into a large room with private bath. "This is the room I stay in when I stay over." He pointed to the connecting bath. "Grab a couple of towels."

Skinner opened the French doors out onto the balcony. When Alex came out with the towels Skinner was opening a bottle of wine and pouring two glasses. He carried them over and set them on the side of the bubbling tub.

Krycek stood looking out over the city and admiring the view. "Wow; what a view."

"Wait till it gets dark. It's even more beautiful." Skinner started removing his clothing and placing it on the bench.

Krycek heard a little splash and turned to see Skinner sitting in the tub, glass in hand and beckoning to him with a wave. In less than a minute he was in the tub beside him sipping his wine.

"This is incredible." Krycek leaned back and enjoyed the water massage.

"We'll have to come back here and visit. I'd like you to meet my friends."

"How well do you know them? Any of them connected with the Bureau?"

"No, none of them. I've known them since Nam."

"Old Marine buddies? From what I've heard, most came back from that war pretty messed up."

"You're right; a lot of them did. They had good reason to be messed up." Skinner took a sip of his wine. "In my unit, only six of us made it back. We've pretty much stuck together since then."

"No kidding? You go to all these Veteran things and sit around and talk about the war?"

"No. We never talk about it. It's not something any of us want to remember. Five of us are in the New England area and one is in Texas."

"You trust them?"

"With my life."

"OK. I trust you, so I'll trust your judgment."

"Good." Skinner put his glass down and took Alex's from him. "Let's forget about them for a while.

"I could be persuaded."

A little playing in the hot tub was followed by a lot of playing in bed and that was followed by a leisurely bubble bath.

"I never suspected you had a thing for water, Walter." Krycek dribbled water down over the bald head leaning against his chest.

"I never did before." He rose up enough to kiss Alex's already kiss-swollen lips. "I think it's just an excuse to get you naked."

"All you have to do is look at me and I'm ready to drop my pants." Alex assured him.

"I'll remember that. As much as I hate to say it; we'd better get dressed. It's dark outside and we'd better start getting ready."

"That's about the only thing in this world right now that could convince me to get out of this tub." Alex smiled up at him and reached a hand up to Skinner. Skinner helped him to his feet and they toweled themselves and each other dry.

The drive to the clinic took about thirty minutes. They were nervous all the way; each one keeping an eye out for any possible trouble. They pulled around to the side entrance as they had been instructed and checked the area out thoroughly before getting out and hurrying inside.

"I'm glad you insisted on coming. This place gives me the creeps." Alex whispered as they walked down the back hallway after locking the door behind them.

The doctor greeted them and took them into the MRI room and showed Krycek where he could get undressed. He gave Skinner an apprehensive sigh and went behind the curtain to strip.

"I'm going to take a walk around; make sure everything is in order," he told Alex.

It was an old building with apartments up above and had the usual accompanying noise but the rest of the clinic was dark and the doors were locked. He poked around in all the examining rooms and closets any other place where someone might be able to hide then checked back with Alex. He was already in the machine and the doctor was watching a viewing screen intently.

"Did he explain to you what you're looking for?" Skinner asked the doctor.

"Yes he did. He said it was about the same size and shape of a car fuse and could be any type of material at all. If there is something in his body that doesn't belong there, this machine will find it."

"That's a pretty new looking machine. How can a little clinic like this afford it?"

"It was a gift; from a grateful patient." The doctor answered without taking his eyes from the screen. "This is basically a free clinic. The patients are asked to pay what they can afford. Most can't afford much. Every now and then I get a patient with money and they are usually most generous."

Skinner walked around and kept an eye on things until he heard the machine cut off and the doctor came out of the little viewing room. Krycek was wheeled out of the machine and he immediately sat up. "Did you find anything?"

"Yeah, I did. It's exactly as you described. It's in your arm right about here; tucked in with all that old scar tissue." He touched what was left of Alex's left arm.

"Can you take it out?"

"I can; if you'll come into the examining room please." He led the way to a small examining room and motioned for Alex to lie down.

A local anesthetic was administered and the object removed in less than five minutes. The doctor put in a few sutures and bandaged the wound.

"OK. You're all set. It'll heal faster if you don't wear the prosthetic for a few days. Keep it clean and in about ten days you can come back and I'll remove the sutures or you can remove them your self."

"Thanks a lot, Doctor." Krycek said as he reached for the device the doctor had rinsed off and placed in a small plastic bottle. He handed it to Skinner as they walked into the other room to get dressed.

Skinner pulled out a wad of cash and asked Krycek, "How much do you think we should give him?"

"A thousand," Krycek answered as he pulled on his clothes. "Just add it to my tab." He grinned as he started to fasten his prosthesis back on.

"Thought you weren't supposed to wear that for a while," Skinner reminded him.

"I'll take it off once we get on the road. I won't feel safe until we're on our way."

They paid the doctor and exited the building the same way they came in.

"So where is this car that's supposed to be here for us?" Krycek asked as they scanned the empty parking area and got into the pick up to wait.

Skinner looked at his watch and pulled out his cell phone. He punched in the number and waited. In a minute it was answered and he had to hold it away from his ear because of the cursing and hollering from the other end. When it finally quieted down Skinner put the phone back to his ear.

"General? Everything all right?" 

"Yeah; I'll be there in five. Hold your horses."

"He must have gotten delayed." Skinner said and reached over to take Krycek's hand. "It's all right; he'll be here in a few minutes."

"Maybe I should wait back in the shadows somewhere until he's gone." He reached for the door handle.

"No. That won't be necessary. I told you; I trust him. He'll be here in a few minutes and we'll take off."

Krycek just nodded but he was becoming more nervous by the minute.

The dark red SUV pulled into the lot and up next to their truck. The General got out still swearing a blue streak. They got out to meet him and pulled their bags out of the pickup and tossed them in the back of the SUV.

"Sorry I'm late; I had it all arranged to be here in plenty of time but things got all fucked up. I was witness to a major traffic accident. The car in front of me was broad sided and I had to stop and help. An old lady was driving and I think she was having a heart attack or something; the guy in the other vehicle was dead at the scene. Anyway the cops were there before I knew it and I had to stay and give a statement and the car I was in got photographed and will probably be on the ten o'clock news so I had to go back and get a different one. You OK?" He looked from Walter to Krycek and back again to Walter.

"Yeah. I called Tommy and told him what I was up to. Give him a call and he'll fill you in. I can't take time for introductions or anything else right now. Here, take this." He handed him the vial with the tracking device in it. "I'll e-mail you and tell you what to do with it. Don't lose it." Skinner said as they climbed into the SUV. "Thanks, General, I'll be in touch." Then they were on the road and headed for the highway.

"You want to tell me what direction you'd like me to head?" He asked Alex.

"I don't care. Anywhere; just as long as it's far away from here."

Skinner pulled up onto the highway with a smile; "OK; anywhere – here we come!"

The End


End file.
